


Invisible Seams

by tetsarou



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha/Alpha, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternative Universe - Clans, Arranged Marriage, Bonding, Knotting, M/M, Omega/Omega, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rutting, Suggestive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-03-30 22:39:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 47,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13961568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tetsarou/pseuds/tetsarou
Summary: Shiro has not seen Lance in years, since they were kids, actually. And now he's marrying Lance. For political reasons, but he's excited and nervous all the same. He's nervous about their bond, about their future, because Lance has yet to present.





	1. Here we go!

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wrote this, one being I have tons of feelings for similar abo pairings, and two, so I can work on writing multi chapter fics. I have one coming up that I want to put a ton of work into and give my all. This one I have a _sort of_ idea about where I want to go, but a lot is still up in the air. I would love some input on it! So you can chat with me on tumblr or twitter :D

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro is a wreck, as usual, and he has no idea what to expect. He hasn't seen Lance in years, and now they're getting married.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be adding tags as we go so don't worry. And of course there are suggestive themes, but that will start up in the next chapter.  
> There is eventual smut though, because how could I leave that out ;D

“Allura, I-I can’t go through with this!”

Shiro ducked as she touched his neck, fingers accidently grazing his glands as she tied the ribbons of his collar. The little show of affection didn’t help calm his nerves. Instead it made him start trembling from all the anxiety.

“Well, I’m sorry to say, but you have to.” She paused. “Actually no, I’m not sorry. I know the circumstances are weird but you’re going to love him.”

Something shone in her eyes. It was mischievous and secret. It scared Shiro. “You talked to him already?”

“Yes.” She laughs. “I wouldn’t be a good friend if I let you marry someone you hated. But you’ve met Lance before.”

“Barely,” Shiro scoffed. All his nerves were going to his hands. Realizing he hadn’t actually held a conversation with the guy made his head reel. The last time he had seen a McClain member was before his last campaign into space, and he had been missing two years after, losing an arm in the process. Shiro stared down at it, the cold metal scratching over the surface at of the table as he gripped the edge tight. He wondered how Lance would feel about it. He knew omegas liked to feel the skin of their mates. He dreaded experiencing Lance's reaction.

And Lance? He vaguely remembers the kid. Loud and exciting as he grabbed onto the large green moths that came out in the dusk of evening. He had cried when his older sister told Lance they would die now after being touched and begged her to fix it. The boy had tried his best to take care of the moth. Shiro remembered how it would kiss Lance with their wings, his giggles excited as he let the insect crawl over his arms. 

Yeah, he remembered Lance, no matter how vaguely. Shiro smiled fondly. He wondered if Lance was like that still.

There was even an old memory in his mind from when they were young teens, when Shiro had presented his alpha endotype and his family threw a celebration after his first rut had settled. Shiro had displayed early, so of course his parents had been proud and a little too excited about it. The embarrassment swelled in his chest remembering how his father had paraded him through the party and his rut scent still clung heavy to his skin. The man had always been a little too free when talking about Shiro and his personal things. But he remembered seeing Lance in the crowd, watching from a distance. His eyes were full of admiration, but there was also hesitation. As if he was scared.

The McClain family was predominantly omega, so there was no question that Lance was expected to present as one. He wondered if that was why Lance was nervous. Alphas were not forgiving at time, Shiro has heard stories, and while betas and omegas were still just as prominent as anyone else, there was always that old stigma around them. Housewives, caretakers, like they couldn’t live up to anything greater than that. He hated hearing how omegas could lose themselves in heat. He’s never met anyone like that, all the omegas in his life were powerful people. The McClain household was proof of that. They dominated their own branch when in court. They were the peacekeepers, but relentless in their own way. They had a way with words Shiro could never grasp without resorting to his alpha voice.

He stared at himself as Allura went on fussing over him. Shiro said he could take care of himself, but his wandering thoughts proved that he wouldn’t be ready in time. He kept staring off, smoothing out the same spot of his shirt before she slapped his hand away. She helped dress him slowly, fitting him into his military jacket and smoothing down the front.

Shiro smiled. Allura always acted so motherly towards him. He guessed it was because his own mother died years ago when they were children. She had always been there for him, taking care of Shiro in any way possible since then. She had seen him through every high and low.

It was impossible to imagine life without her.

Her wavy hair was twisted and braided back tight high on her head, adorned with beads that pearled in the light. She wore a simple blue gown, highlighted with gems around her neck of Shiro’s family colors, black and purple. They made the colors in her eyes stand out, little flecks of odd violet in her irises vibrant as she walked about getting his things together. Allura had been ready for hours, because she knew Shiro wouldn’t have been able to get ready by himself.

He watched her fuss over herself at times, fixing a stray hair or two. She always managed to look perfect though. The alpha was anything but unkempt. 

She continued her little rampage on him as others went back and forth through the room. Some other alphas came to check in on them, gave input to Allura when she asked. Shiro didn’t get a word in once. She needed it to be perfect.

He was adorned in a tight jacket, loose fabric draped around his arms and tied to his waist. It was the style of the ceremony. Shiro remembered watching his father get dressed in gold and black when he was a kid. Shiro’s stepmom was lovely, but she couldn’t compare.

He sighed. He wished him mom could see him… His father too. The man was too ill to be able to present Shiro at the dias, so Allura was his next choice. 

She seemed to sense his mood, smiled up at him for a moment as she folded the fabric to her liking and pined it to his waist before continuing. The belt came next and she took her time adjusting the fabric once more.

The silence was starting to get to him.

“So, uhm, Lance?” Shiro looked at her, his nervousness showing again. “When did you meet him?”

“Last week,” she said, smile growing. Shiro could tell the change in mood pleased her. “I managed to snag some info about where he would be, and had lunch with him. But, his friends, I’ve never met such infuriating people. It’s impossible to get information out of them.”

Shiro smiled at her exasperated sigh. “Did they really bother you that much?” 

“No, they’re actually really sweet, and makes me happy seeing he has friends like that, and yeah, it’s strange having an alpha ask after an unmated omega.” Shiro mumbled, he hasn’t presented yet. But Allura waved him off. It was going to happen after all. “But that alpha he hangs out with, Pidge, she’s the most _mhhh_!” She made a strangling motion with her hands.

Shiro laughed. Allura was never one to judge so quickly, but seeing her feathers get ruffled in any way was amazing. “Pidge? It that really her name?”

“No, the other one, Hunk, called her Katie at first. I’ve never seen such a small alpha turn on a beta faster in my life. I felt like I was witnessing his murder.” 

She went back to fidgeting with the cloth around his arms and waist. Apparently it was not sitting right, but how could it get any better than that? Shiro let the silence drag on, but his head kept working, eating at his mind before he could even think to stomach down the fit of uneasiness. His stomach hurt so bad.

He licked his lips. “And… Lance, what was he like?”

Allura looked up a him. “A charmer. He tried to smooth me over to visit him more often.”

Why would he ask for Allura? Him and Shiro were the ones getting married, Lance should be asking for him.

Shiro felt something bristle. It was a low heat that broke in the back of his head and behind his eyes. He stared at the floor to contain himself for a moment.

“Chill out, Shiro,” Allura shoved him, pushing him out of the mood. “You haven’t even marked him yet and you’re already getting defensive.” 

A heavy blush crept over his face. He could feel the way the heat started in his neck then up to his ears. He should not have done that. It was Allura after all, she knew how to handle herself. Allura leaned in. “It’s okay, I won’t tell him how you blush thinking about him.”

“Allura, stop!” Shiro shoved away from her, checking on his outfit himself before taking a deep breath.

Everything was in place. His hair was combed back to show his face, gold studs replacing his usual silver ones in his ears. His black suit pressed and smooth over his form, blue cotton draped over his arms and around his waist. It was Lance’s blue, the color of his family. Even the gold was there. 

It was something from his closet. Shiro never dreamed of this. It was tradition, taking an article of clothing from each others wardrobe and wearing it at the wedding, and then it was theirs the rest of their life. Shiro had been nervous selecting what to give Lance. He didn’t have the same flashy things that Lance’s family presented him. It was overwhelming, being handed a few items to choose from. The shaw was the prettiest thing he’s ever held, soft and warm but delicate looking. It reminded him of Lance, something that was new and precious in his life.

Shiro hoped his own gift wasn’t too strange. He ended up picking a suit for Lance. Of course it was way too big for Lance and they had to tailor it, but Shiro hoped he didn’t ask for anything different. There wasn’t much else he could give. He had some rings, but those where from his parents. He gazed down at them. Maybe he would let Lance wear his mothers. It was small, fitting on his pinkie, gold band decorated with tiny pearls. His hand shook taking it off. It would look beautiful on Lance’s. He wondered how Lance’s hand would feel in his.

He clenched his metal hand. His arm was aching from all the stress, all the nerves in his shoulder going off and trembling with anxiousness. But he was excited too. He wanted to get married, to finally be with someone that cared for him in such an intimate way.

He knew nothing about Lance though and it made him worried. They never really had spoken since they were kids, and even less when they were teens. Shiro missed those times, he missed laughing with them and running to his mother after his time out with the McClains. At the time they were his caretakers, and then his mother died and he saw less of them. Besides, they moved around a lot and so he lost touch with Lance.

Shiro wondered if his eyes were still the same vibrant blue.

He breathed deep, trying to release all the tension in his shoulders for a moment before another stronger wave of it moved to settle in his joints and stomach. His head buzzed from the excitement of it all.

Shiro was dressed up for his wedding, _his_ wedding. His heart fluttered as he pinned and repinned the medal on his label. He fidgeted, fixing his sleeves and readjusting how the fabric laid on him. 

Allura watched, amused by the spectacle of Shiro finally fussing over himself. He clearly wanted to impress Lance.

She sidded up next to him, fixing the mess Shiro was making out of his clothing. “Shiro, it’ll be okay, he’s going to love you.”

“He doesn’t know anything about me.”

“I know he’ll love you, and you’ll love him.” Allura rubbed his back. “Lance is wonderful, I don’t think your dad would let anyone else have you, and I wouldn’t either. He’s perfect, unbelievable smart, charming, and fun. He’s not going to shut you out, there’s no way he can be quiet for that long.” She laughed. “I’ve never seen anyone more chatty in my life, you won’t be bored.”

Shiro looked up at her, her words helped but there was a whole other anxiety creeping up his spine. What if Lance really did shut him out? He didn’t know if he could handle that. If they bonded early, then how would they go about each other if the air grew stale and cold?

Everyone expected them to bond early, that night most likely, and seal their marriage. Shiro, well, he wanted to wait, wanted to know Lance before their bond changed anything towards each other. Before they grew a fake love that developed because of their bond. Shiro was scared of that. He wanted to get to know Lance, wanted to take him out on dates, wanted to share some type of connection with him before it changed.

This wedding… It was all so strange. Shiro hadn’t really thought about the arrangement until then, he had been excited and a little nervous about Lance’s opinion on him. He had hoped to meet with him the week before, but that was crushed while Lance was running a trial late in court, taking up the rest of the time that they could have together. The week before the wedding they had to stay out of each others line of site, mostly so the workers could plan but there was an old tradition that ran through the place. Because Lance was expected to be omega, they feared he might go into heat before the ceremony, feeding off his mates excitedness and the stress. 

The thing was, Lance had yet to present. His mother talked to Shiro about it, said that he hasn’t given any signs the past few years. This was nothing new, but it worried Shiro a little. Lance was almost twenty-two, and yet to show. He figured Lance was a beta, but there was no smell of him that lingered on any of the other members of his family. Shiro so desperately wanted to smell him, if only to calm his nerves. He needed an omega’s soothing scent then.

“I feel like I’m going to throw up,” Shiro groaned.

“Well, good thing I planned for this.” Allura suddenly stepped forward, hands coming up wet and rubbing all over Shiro’s bare neck and hands. He gasped, flinching back at the cold substance she smeared on him, but the scent was faint, like a soft lavender that seeped into his skin. His body felt warm for a few moments, skin prickling at the sensation of heat that flared in those spots. 

“Now suck it up, you have a wedding to be at!”

She shoved Shiro, turning the dopey alpha around briskly and opening the door to his room. He easily walked, but everything in his head was screaming. This was a bad idea, maybe they shouldn’t. They were both so young. What if this wasn’t what they both needed? 

His head was spinning as he walked down the halls, guided only by Allura’s hands and her soft voice. 

What if Lance hated him for this? Shiro had not heard anything from him about this wedding, if he really wanted to go through with it. They both knew it was a game of politics, settling the tense air between the two regions. None of the other families wanted claim to Shiro, but the McClain’s were always part of his life, and they held stature over all the rest. So they expected them to give over one of their own. Shiro hated how this worked, but he would never do anything to disrespect them. He didn’t turn down the request from his father. 

Besides, he really did love them, and would never tarnish their reputation by declining. They were a gentle, kind group. Hell, they basically raised Shiro. He would never forget those days. All their soft looks and gentle touches melted his heart, even now, seeing Lance’s mother pacing back and forth waiting had his chest swelling. He’d make her proud, he will take care of Lance.

“Oh, Allura, Shiro!” The woman was loud when spotting them. Shiro did not dare to hold back the huge smile he had for her.

“Hello, my lovely rose,” Shiro purred, pulling her into a tight hug after she hugged Allura.

She laughed at the old name. “You really need to stop calling me that, my husband wouldn’t take too kindly to you saying it.”

“He’s heard me say it before, and if I’m not mistaken, he’s picked up on it too.” Shiro remembered hearing him say it the first time ever, and how the woman beamed up at him. 

She laughed. “You’re right, everyone always picked up on your bad habits.”

“Bad? Do you not like the names?” He hid the smile that tried to spread over his face.

Her eyes widened. “No, no, I adore them, I’m just… “ She sighed, looking about the room. It was full of moving workers, gathering and putting together the final pieces to the puzzle.

“Stressed,” Allura said.

“Yes, but not nearly as much as you look Shiro.” That was true, despite the substance Allura had rubbed across his skin, all the nerves still showed through and he ached. He’s never hurt this much before, not even during his first campaign into space. He was excited. The adrenaline moved through his body and left him trembling.

“Ha, yeah… how is Lance doing?” His heart hammed in his chest. Was Lance doing better than him? Was he shrugging this off, only seeing it in a political manner?

“Not so good,” she smiled though. “I’ve never seen him have so much energy before. He hasn’t stopped talking since last night. Hunk said he even mumbled in his sleep and woke up before seven.” She leaned in close to Shiro. “I haven't seen that boy get up on his own free will before twelve the past five years.”

Allura laughed. “Yeah, I think you’ll be fine Shiro.”

A small smile was spreading over his face by the time someone came up to usher them all away, a beta leading Shiro to the back rooms. His heart was going to burst out of his chest. This was where he was going to meet with Lance finally.

Everything in his body was alight. He couldn’t wait to see his mate. Couldn’t wait to have his husband in his arms. His hands shook as he pressed them to the door, trembling when he turned the handle and pushed it open.

The light streaming in was warm and soft. It was late afternoon, going into evening. The walls of the room white and the floors a warm wood. There was little furniture, only meant to house two at the moment, with a couch and a few chairs.

His heart beat harder as he looked, collecting in everything as he tried to gather himself up off the floor, staring at the man precariously sitting in an open window, legs crossed as he gazed out over the city.

Shiro stared. Lance was beautiful, dressed in blue and golds, loose fabric draped around his lean frame, eyelids kissed with a soft golden power that glinted in the sunlight. The blue bodysuit underneath clung to Lance, Shiro’s gift, shoulders bare and gold jewelry around his neck and wrists. His hair had a slight curl. It looked so natural, little pieces twisting around those baby blue eyes Shiro remembered, ears adored with small studs and rings. He wanted to touch him already. He looked so soft in the fading light. 

Shiro noticed something he didn’t remember from their childhood, staring after the faint freckles that dusted Lance’s checks and shoulders.

Lance smiled up at him. “Ready to go, Takashi?”


	2. Blue and Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for the wedding, but Shiro is as nervous as ever about what Lance thinks of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't be afraid to come send me some input about later chapters! Come chat with me over on my [tumblr](tetsarou.tumblr.com) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/tetsarou)

His heart nearly gave out hearing those words.

Lance hopped down from his seat, floating because of the clothing around him. “You know, I almost forgot how big of a guy you were. Doesn’t really surprise me though, you’ve always been tall.” He gave a small wink to Shiro as he glided past.

“Lance.”

“Hmm?” He turned back, for a moment, gaze drifting down Shiro’s form. Shiro held his tongue. He wanted to say he missed him, that he should have visited him more often. But that would be a waste. He could make up for that later.

Right now he was questioning why Lance was so calm.

He moved with such ease around Shiro, while he was trying his hardest not to combust at the moment and wilt into the floor with the elation and nervousness he felt.

Lance continued on over to the small table near the chairs, picking up a glass of water and coming back to hand it to Shiro. “Also, dude, breathe, I don’t think you have this whole entire time. I’m not that bad to be around, you can breathe the same air as me.” 

What? Shiro hesitated, opening his mouth to say something.

“Also chill it with the pheromones, I could smell you before you even walked in the door.”

Lance laughed at the horrified expression that passed over Shiro’s face.

“Trying to scare me off?” There was something that gave in Lance’s face. He smiled, but his eyes where not in the emotion. Shiro never felt so distant in his life.

“What? No, no!” Shiro babbled. “I’m just nervous. All of this… it’s, well, it’s a lot.”

Lance pointed at the glass, still in Shiro’s hands and untouched. He watched the water tremble for a moment. He had so much to say and ask, but Lance turned back around and went to go hop up on his window seat again.

Shiro followed, but lingered a few feet away. Did… Lance feel uncomfortable around him? He didn’t look nervous, but he kept looking away, at anything other than him. And his eyes. They weren’t in the moment.

“Hey.” Lance looked back to him within an instant. It was hard to pick his thoughts back up off the ground. “It’s okay , I’m, ha, I feel like I’m on fire right now. I never expected this.”

That didn’t seem to cheer Lance up at all. He crossed his legs again, leaning back on the windowsill. 

Shiro sighed. He always managed to make a fool of himself one way or the other. “Can I sit with you?”

Lance nodded, curling his legs up tighter against himself and watched as Shiro drew closer to him.

Shiro breathed in, trying to gather some scent from Lance. He smelled like lavenders and oranges, trying to mimic the scent of an omega. He wished he could smell his natural musk, no matter how faint it was. He wanted to smell Lance. 

Lance seemed to relax once Shiro got close to him, and finally drank his water. A small smile spread over his face as he looked back outside. Shiro watched him for a moment. The man was beautiful, beyond anything he has ever expected.

“I heard you got up really early today,” Shiro said, looking down at the glass in his hand. He was still nervous. The water did nothing to cool his body.

“Yeah, what do you expect when you’re marrying someone you barely know.”

A pain went through Shiro hearing that. He hated how he wasn’t able to meet Lance beforehand, to be able to court him like they should have. “I’m sorry, I should have made more of an effort to see you.” He should have done everything he could. “I guess I got too nervous.” 

Lance was watching him, head tilted and eyes narrow. Shiro could feel him, see him out of the side of his vision, but he was looking down at Lance’s feet. He was wearing the traditional sandals, but his toenails were painted. There was a little ring around his littlest toe. _Cute._

Shiro suddenly remembered something and went to his hand. He slipped the ring off, his mothers, and handed it to Lance. “I feel like I didn’t give you enough to wear, so here. It was my mothers, my real mothers, I wanted you to have it too.”

Lance balked at him, eyes wider than ever. “Y-you sure? I don’t want to accidentally lose it…” 

“You won’t,” Shiro smiled. “I trust you.”

Lance hesitated a moment more before sliding it on his finger, his middle finger. Shiro knew it. Lance’s hands looked gorgeous, long, slim fingers and soft palms. There was still power behind them, firm in a way that Shiro knew this man was a fighter. Lance had a strange power behind his eyes too. He was all talk, yes, but he knew what he wanted and could get it within seconds. 

He had Shiro’s heart from the moment they met. He didn’t really realize it, but he adored Lance, and now here they were, face to face at their own wedding, but they still hesitated around each other.

“Thank you, Shiro.” Lance’s eyes were bright, brighter than before.

Shiro watched him for a moment longer, tracing over the curve of his eyelashes and cheeks, the way his lip quirked up at the corner and how the waning sunlight cast a soft yellow glow across his skin. He leaned forward before all his confidence left him.

It was too fast. Lance jolted, pushing away. His eyes were wide as Shiro jerked, realizing his mistake. He moved early.

He pulled away, jumping off the window in an attempt to give Lance some space.

“Sorry, sorry, I-” Shiro groaned. He messed up. He wanted to put Lance at ease, to show him that he truly did want this to happen. “I’m a mess! Like, look at me, it’s only been ten minutes and my hair is already everywhere and my shawl lost its shape.”

Lance smiled at him, the blush that had been spreading across his face deepened. Shiro could feel his, more powerful than it had been before in his room. He must look drunk.

“It’s okay,” Lance said. “We’re both nervous. Trying to appease our countries is a stressful job.”

Shiro balked at that. Lance was reading this all wrong.

“No, Lance.” He stumbled over himself, he wanted the younger man to understand. “No, I never felt like that, I’m nervous over you.”

“Why over me? I-” Lance quieted, his eyes growing distant and downcast as he looked past Shiro. He obviously wanted to say more and Shiro was going to hear it.

“What?” He leaned forward, trying to block out anything Lance might look at to get out of the conversation.

“I, uhm, I should be the one that’s nervous. Because what if you didn’t like me?” Lance turned his attention on his pants, picking at an invisible seam. “A lot of people lose interest once I start talking.”

Shiro stared. He had not been expecting that, but one thing was for sure. He loved Lance’s voice. It was beautiful, deep and calming. Shiro felt settled the longer he listened to Lance.

“Hm, they don’t know what they’re missing.” Lance looked up at him confused.

“That woman you had lunch with the other day, Allura? That’s my friend, she had some things to say about you,” Shiro quirked.

It was Lance’s turn to groan, blush spreading over his face again. “No! I said some stupid stuff to her.”

“It’s okay, she loved it. She said you would be perfect for me.” He let the last words drift out, letting his eyes wander to Lance’s hand where his ring rested on Lance’s finger. “I believe her.”

There was a genuine smile then, it spread all the way up to his eyes and further. Lance’s whole body beamed when Shiro said that. 

They sat in silence for a few moments more, hands starting to explore each other. Lance was the first to move, little finger reaching out to tap against Shiro’s, asking for permission, before holding it tight. They continued on, slowly exploring each other as Shiro leaned back against the window and let Lance’s hands come up to fuss and smooth through his hair, fixed his shawl to flow better around himself, and then pressed a thumb to his lips.

Shiro paused, watching Lance’s eyes wander with the movements. He mapped out the stars on Lance’s cheeks and nose, drinking in the way his eyes glimmered and shifted, a glow around him from the reflection of his jewelry.

His lip, that’s where they would be touching each other later, during the ceremony.

Shiro’s heart thrummed heavy again. It didn’t take Lance to be an omega or bonded to notice it. He glanced up, eyes gazing over Shiro’s face before a small curve of a smile settled over his lips and turned away.

Not long after that someone come to escort them out. But it was strange in the first place that they had more than a few minutes to talk. He wondered why they waited, but also, he relished the time with Lance. It allowed them to settle, and now Lance was holding onto him as they drifted down the halls, stopping just within the curtains to the main hall.

Shiro's heart felt like bursting. He had not expected this to turn so quickly, but he was happy. Lance made him burn all over, he was impatient to have him, to have this man in his arms and purring to him. He wanted to hear what lovely sounds Lance could make.

They could hear the excited chattering of the guests, muffled by the curtain and creating a dull hum as the clans between their two regions mixed together. He could also feel the tense air.

Shiro stood a little taller. He was ready to show off his mate. He wouldn’t let anyone look at Lance as anything less than what he was. Beautiful, bright, strong.

Lance was so strong, steady in a way that made Shiro lean towards him. Even then, Shiro was pressing into him, waiting for them to be announced.

“You know,” Lance broke the silence. “I planned to marry a beta or another omega.”

Shiro’s heart suddenly dropped. He couldn’t help it.

“But I like you much more, I don’t think I could handle being with anyone just as loud as myself.” Lance turned and winked at him before leaning into Shiro’s arm and pressing his face to the large mound of a shoulder. 

Suddenly there was music filling the room, and a voice boomed, announcing their names. Shiro wished they had done this Lance’s way. It was all too loud and dramatic for them. They should have had a ceremony along the beaches.

He stepped forward, casting back a glance at Lance when the curtains pulled aside and the man stayed rooted to his spot. He was anxious. Shiro could feel it in the way Lance clutched at his arm, and how he somehow hid behind Shiro in the slightest of ways.

It was the looks, Shiro realized, all the members from his regions were looking at Lance, looking _down_ on Lance. He bristled, eyes growing sharp as they continued on. He would put them in his place. But then Lance surged forward, feeling Shiro’s sudden bout of protectiveness and smiled up at him. He held Shiro’s hand lazily, playfully and led him down the rest of the way, sauntering in a way that was meant to lure Shiro up with him. Shiro laughed, clear and louder than he intended. Lance was a sight. All the initial shock was gone, replaced by his own cockiness at the harsh glares. 

They made their way up, then Shiro saw him. His father. He sat in a chair, face pale and sunken, but obviously beaming. He had more life in him than when Shiro last saw him.

He felt it, felt the heat in his chest and the prick at his eyes. A soft swell began in his lungs. His father was here! He was going to see him! He was going to see him get married! A low call came out of his lips. It was one his dad taught him. It was full of love and admiration.

His father smiled back, his own little sound escaping from his thin chest. Oh, he missed this man. He had never met anyone more strong in his life. He remembered how tall he stood, how his laughter boomed down the halls.

What was he thinking? He was still like that.

Lance came up then, feeling a mixture of Shiro’s distress, love, and pride. Lance looked at the man, slowly dipping down into a bow.

Shiro stared wide eyed. Lance was thanking him, in front of everyone. He was showing his respect.

The older man shooed them away. They were at a wedding after all, their own, so no need to be so ceremonial towards him.

Shiro followed Lance up after a moment longer, lingering on his father's smile, but reached the steps of the daise and nuzzled the man. His eyes still burned. He felt like crying, everything in him warming up and threatening to spill over. He wanted this. Wanted to forever see the way Lance was smiling, staring expectantly at the cleric before them.

The man was oddly amused at the two, nodding to them both before having everyone sit to begin.

Of course Shiro got distracted with Lance, gently thumbing along his knuckles and looking over at him. The man took his breath away every single time. Shiro stared, watched as Lance looked down for a moment, then over at him. The soft glow from the open doors lining the hall had Lance in a halo of light once more. Everything on him glowed, and his eyes shone up at Shiro before he glanced back down.

Lance was obviously paying more attention than him.

Shiro settled in, listening to the slow thrum of people around them, behind them, to the sides. But Lance kept drawing his attention. He wanted to hear his voice.

Shiro’s voice was low, gaining a glance from the parson between words. But the man obviously has experienced worse and let Shiro talk to Lance.

“So, when you said you were planned on being with another omega, what did you mean?”

Lance turned towards him. Finally they were at that point in the vows. Lance was handed a small bowl full of golden fluid. Shiro watched as Lance playfully dragged his fingers over the surface. He looked up at Shiro then.

“I don’t think you would believe me if I said I was afraid of you.”

Shiro’s lips parted, if only to gain some air into his lungs as Lance drew the first line across the skin of his neck, paint cold at first but warmed quickly by his heat. He chose an intimate first spot. “Really? Why were you scared of me?”

“That’s not the only reason, but… I thought you were the most powerful alpha around, you still are yet… I’m having fun claiming you, you’re actually not so steady on your feet.”

With that Lance pushed his finger against Shiro’s forehead hard, smearing the paint a bit as Shiro wobbled backwards. Shiro had nearly lost it for a second, his eyes were closed and enjoying the feeling of Lance’s fingers trailing over his adam's apple, feeling it bob as he swallowed. Not many alphas showed their throats willingingly to their partners, it was a trust and power issue, but Shiro had so many desires to tilt his head back and expose his glands to Lance.

Lance laughed, hiding his smile behind his hand for a moment, then reached up to improvise and finish the markings. They would last all night through the party, a symbol of their union.

Shiro smiled down at him, trying to reach and nuzzle the cheeky little shit. But Shiro caught a glimpse of his father.

The man’s face had grown hard.

He shouldn’t be this intimate in public.

Shiro paused, pulling back from Lance for a moment. His eyes grew wide watching Shiro move away, gaze flicking down at the bowl uncertainty.

He felt it, like a pang in his stomach, hard and sharp. Lance thinks Shiro’s realizing what’s happening, that they’ll be stuck together. So he surges forward, pressed his forehead to Lance’s to ease his mind. He breathed him in, letting some of his own scent surround Lance. He willed Lance to feel him, feel how he only got nervous for a moment. Nervous because of what others thought of him loving this man so fully and so suddenly.

He watched Lance’s mouth part at the sudden flood of senses. He clenched his teeth next and somehow Shiro knew Lance was holding back a groan. 

Shiro knew his father was always so serious about this subject, but seeing him outright try to stifle the moment had Shiro’s gut twisting. Was he not allowed to have fun here? This was someone he was going to spend the rest of his life with.

His gaze wandered back over. To check, otherwise he felt like his heart was going to split. His father had grown somewhat softer, but only because Lance’s mother was gazing up at them, smile wide as she watched them in wonder at what would happen next. Her son was spontaneous, so this would be exciting for them all.

Shiro turned back to Lance, who was still waiting for him. He grabbed the bowl next and dipped his fingers into the gold, running it between his fingers as he thought. A grin spread over his face at the idea. He turned towards Lance, hands a bit shaky as he pressed one right under Lance’s eye and smoothed it just to the dimple of his cheek, then left light dots down to his jaw. He did the same on the other, slow in his process to cover Lance’s face. He slowly traced the curve of Lance’s jaw, pressed dots along the curve of his brows. He wanted Lance to feel it, feel as if he were leaving kisses in these intimate spots.

Then he paused as he touched Lance’s bottom lip, and he breathed in as well, lips parting and eyes open as Shiro drug his thumb across it. There was something dark, needy, in that look. He felt like devouring Lance.

He grabbed Lance’s face and kissed him, smearing paint into Lance’s hair and cheeks when clutching onto him, then all down his mouth and chin from the sloppy kiss. The tang of the gold did nothing to mask the sweet taste in Lance's mouth. He had eaten candy before this.

It still sent fire up his spine, and Lance breathed in sharp and aching. He gasped around Shiro’s mouth for a moment before yanking away with a cry, but he started laughing. Full, deep swells of laughter. It bubbled up and warmed Shiro, wrapping him up in the deep sounds.

There were hoots and laughter spread out through the crowd. It fueled the heat that spread over Shiro’s face.

“You little-,” Lance paused and glanced over, realizing he was in the presence of a clergyman. The man raised his brow at Lance, but the smile could not be hidden as he was wrapped up in the middle of their little banter. 

Lance snorted, trying to keep in that new little burst of embarrassment as he grabbed the bowl back and pressed up close to Shiro. He leaned in, dipping his finger once more in the bowl before tracing Shiro’s upper lip with it, trying to smooth out some of the mess he made of them both.

What was the point though if they both knew this would keep happening?

But Shiro tied his best to clean up Lance. Some of it still stuck to his hair, but Shiro smiled. Lance looked good regardless. He had even added some lines and dots along his bare shoulders in the process. He wanted to completely mark Lance.

He handed the bowl back but noticed Lance was pouting as the ceremony continued on to the final part.

“No fair, I didn’t get to put as many marks on you.”

Shiro leaned into him, pressing his face into Lance’s hair. “We can add more later if you wish.”

Lance looked up at him, eyes bright as he considered it, smug grin growing. “What do you mean by ‘later’?”

Shiro wanted to choke. Lance looked away obviously proud of his comment, but he wavered as the finally part of the ceremony was addressed. As they were finally allowed to kiss each other, even though they already had, as the cleric pointed out. A round of laughter went through the room at that. 

Lance smiled sheepishly up at Shiro. He was nervous, fidgeting as he was finally very aware of everyone staring at them and judging their kissing style. He picked at his pants again, looking down the whole time.

Shiro watched, and calmly as he could reached up to tip Lance’s head up that little inch to kiss him, despite how his heart hammered in his chest and stomach fluttered.

Lance breathed in before he slammed their mouths together, reaching to grip onto any part of Shiro as he pressed close.

Shiro breathed in Lance, letting his mouth part as he tipped his head the other way, feeling the way Lance molded against him and his hands wandered, unsteady and grasping until they finally found a place to settle at Shiro’s waist. He held on, gripped Lance’s chin and let his mouth press in a little more. He felt Lance shudder, and Shiro’s body tingled as Lance slipped his hands up further. One smooth movement and he was Lance’s, turned to putty in his hands and leaning into the younger man.

They breathed a moment, eyes parting open to catch at each other before dipping back in once more. This time Lance’s teeth hit his, it didn’t hurt, but there was something about it. It was claiming, showing off. Lance was showing his teeth to Shiro. He’s never met anyone else who would do that besides Allura, who only bared her teeth when she was pissed.

Now Lance was full on trying to show the size of his canines, and Shiro purred. He pulled back, resting his face in the curve of Lance’s neck for a moment longer and breathed him him. Lance smelled divine, despite the fake omega scent that clung to him, Lance had a musky haze around him. Shiro smelt himself, along with another earthen tone. 

It left him gasping and staring at Lance.

Had he imagined something?

Then there were the loud cheers surrounding them, and Lance laughed. He jumped up to steal one more kiss to Shiro’s lips before grabbing his hands and running them back down the aisle they had walked along early. The crowd followed them through the home, chasing after the new pair as they led the clans to a new, large ballroom. 

Shiro and Lance raced ahead for a bit, hoping to get a few seconds to have if only a moment. Lance had to slip out of his sandals and he was full speed after Shiro within moments, even passing the bigger man in his rush to reach the room.

Their lips met again and again, laughs and whispers in between gentle kisses. Shiro spun Lance around in little circles in the middle of the dance floor before the loud group of party goers arrived, surrounding them for a moment and congratulating them before heading to tables for the party to begin.

They would be given some space, kept to their own table near the edge of the dance floor so they could watch, but most of the time Lance was leaning in close to Shiro and nuzzling him. It was loud and bright. Lance was grinning wide the whole time.

Shiro watched him lazily, running his fingertips up Lance’s arm as he listened to the music and watched the people dance and talk among each other. It seemed in their own chaos and fun, the clans had started to mingle more.

“So before, what was the other thing that made you so nervous around me?”

Lance glance over at him, quiet for a moment before he gave in, shaking his head. “Mama asked me the same thing. But it was because she talked about you so much. She saw you more often than anyone else in the Shirogane family. She told me not to worry too much, about you being an alpha. But I think her constantly talking about you put me more on edge, she always had a way of parading you around the house without you actually being there.”

“Is that it?” He doubted it. They had a lot to talk about, after all.

“Hmm, I wasn’t really nervous, just felt like I had to live up to your standards.” Lance paused. “Well… actually I guess that means I was nervous, about you not liking me, either.”

“Lance, you shouldn’t feel like that, anyone would be lucky to have you.” Shiro pressed close to him. “And I do, I feel very lucky.”

Lance laughed, shoving him away as he got up and snatched a glass from one of the waiting attendants before they had a chance to move towards him.

He took a sip of the amber liquid. Shiro could smell the slight burn in his nose being so close as Lance drank away. “You flatter me,” Lance joked, setting down the drink before pressing right back into Shiro.

“As I should, you’re gorgeous, Lance.”

He felt the smile on his skin before seeing it. A soft kiss was pressed to his jaw, so close to his glands, before Lance pulled away. He reached for his drink again eagerly, slight flush on his skin as he downed the rest of it in one go.

“Going to get drunk on our wedding?” A little warmth spread through his chest watching Lance.

“Of course! It’s our wedding, we should have fun.” 

“I think I might just watch you then, I don’t think these people could handle us both being inebriated.” Shiro nipped Lance’s neck, getting a small gasp in return. “Besides, you’re cute like this.”

Lance made a little _hmph_ , proving his point, before he stood up and held his hand out to Shiro.

“Before I get too wasted, why don’t we dance. I don’t think you’ll want to be dragging me around while we have our first dance.”

Shiro gazed down at that hand. Long fingers gentle and smooth, curling after a moment to get Shiro’s attention. He looked back up at Lance and saw the widest smile on his face. He was beaming, absolutely loving this.

“Nervous?” He asked.

Shiro breathed. Yes, he was, he never expected any of this. Lance was so open, so easy and moving around him. He expected them to hesitate around each other, to be distant and unsure. But Lance was taking hold of his arm and pulling Shiro up to press close.

He hummed into the movement, gently guiding Shiro into the mass of people in the center of the room. He heard some cheers and people parted for them, but otherwise, he was swallowed up in Lance and everything that was this man. Shiro gasped when Lance leaned up to press a chaste kiss to his lips, a soft brush of heat for a moment before he stepped back and pulled Shiro those last few feet towards him.

“Not so much anymore,” Shiro said.

He saw Lance smile, his eyes closing as he moved his arms to rest around Shiro, feet angled so one or the other could lead. Shiro let him go first, let Lance do what he liked. There was still that rogue tint around his cheeks that would be permanently there, so Shiro leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to the curve of his cheek, right to the gold line under his eye that trailed along his face. 

Lance purred. It was deep and soft, coming up from his chest. Shiro felt it against his own as they moved. The slight sway they had was nothing too special as Lance leaned his head on Shiro, face pressed into the bend of his neck.

They held each other there for a moment, swallowed up in the crowd and noise, but not really paying attention to anything around them. Lance seemed content with it all, eyes closing tight as he angled his head again to press a warm kiss to Shiro’s neck. He shuddered, growl rising up feeling the sensation shoot down his spine.

Lance perked up, and leaned in a little more. He pressed his mouth again, this time lips parted open. Shiro could feel the wet heat on his skin. He huffed into Lance’s hair, hand coming up almost automatically to grip the back of Lance’s head.

Shiro paused. He wouldn’t do anything to shove Lance off. He was so close though, so close to his glands, but he never pushed more than that. Lance gave him another chaste kiss to his neck, this time along the gold line there. Shiro breathed, tilting his head back enough for Lance’s head to perch right under his chin. He breathed in shakily. His legs felt weak from the sensation, feeling Lance’s tongue graze his skin, and then teeth. Shiro’s knees shook.

Shiro became all too aware of the people pressing in then. They must be staring at the show of affection, but it must be too much too soon. He heard some sounds, hushed noises along the outside edges of the dance floor.

His eyebrows pinched together. Why should they care so much? At least Lance and him were getting along, at least they found a way to relax around each other and get wrapped up together.

Before Lance could hear them, he gathered him up, determined to make the tension change. Lance laughed as they spun around and around, Shiro moving them easily along the floor and to the other side. That’s where Lance’s family was, they would love to see the show of affection between the two.

Some of the older boys whooped seeing them. Lance made a little irritated yip at them, burying his face in Shiro’s neck again to hide the blush and smile that made a permanent home on his face.

They drifted a while, breathing each other in. Lance led them around most of the time, because Shiro was lost to that change in the music and change of the crowd. He was memorizing the man next to him, pressed up in a way to feel the curve of his stomach and chest over his own, the way his back arched when Shiro pressed his hand there, and the earthy scent that followed him as the night grew deeper. 

The lavender had faded from Lance a while ago, so Shiro had nestled his head in Lance’s neck and was slowly breathing, scenting the man and listening to Lance hum with the music. His mind kept wandering back to earlier, to how Lance’s teeth had grazed over his skin twice now, almost in a possessive way. His spine still tingled from the action. The skin of his neck prickling as Lance shifted and his hair tickled Shiro.

It wouldn’t be much longer till they slipped away, besides, they both were getting burned out from the constant congratulations and talks. They hoped to at least get one dance in fully as time went on, but more and more people kept coming up to them. Shiro’s hair was starting to bristle from the overwhelming onslaught of it.

Lance smoothed his hands down the back of Shiro’s neck then, and twisted around in his hands. He tilted his head back, a playful air around him that had not been there before.

Then he started swaying back.

Shiro watched a moment, confused as Lance went to grip his hands, but he heard it, heard the upbeat tones of the music. It was getting to that point in the party where the scenery changed. When they would leave.

Lance seemed to want to stay for a moment longer though. “At least one song.”

His eyes were pleading, but that mischievous side never left. Shiro nodded, he didn’t trust his voice in that moment.

Then he ground back and Shiro gasped.

He grabbed Lance’s waist. Wow. He had not been expecting this.

Then one side of his hip lifted, and again rolled back. Shiro pressed close, letting his groan escape as Lance moved against him. Shiro found his rhythm with Lance. It was hard at first, he was not nearly as gifted as Lance clearly was when it came to movements and following the beat, but he made up for that with soft kisses along the man's neck and hands gripping hard to hold them steady.

He felt like his nails were digging in. He didn’t mean to, but Lance had a hold on him in that moment. Warmth spread over him, sparks alight up his spine and over his nerves. Lance rolled back again, ass pressed right up against him as he moved.

Okay, yeah, Lance had dug his nails in and was dragging him around. Shiro groaned low, hopefully only loud enough for Lance to hear him. He didn’t need the others hearing this, hearing how good it felt with Lance rubbing the cleft of his ass along his dick. Everything in him was alight once again. His mouth opened, panting as he rolled forward to meet Lance. Sweat beaded at the back of his neck, his hands holding on tighter.

His body ached. Shiro was burning up. Little sparks of flame dancing over his skin and shooting through his limbs with each subtle movement. He moved his hands to grab onto Lance’s, teeth scraping the back of his neck. He wanted a taste, wanted to know how sweet Lance’s sweat was, how loud his sounds could get. He wondered if Lance would be loud, since now Lance was urging him on with little whispers and purrs.

Shiro’s hand came up, shaking as it snuck along the front of Lance, pausing to grope at his chest before gripping onto his neck. He tilted Lance’s head, hearing him gasp at the touch. Shiro kissed his ear, to calm him for a moment. He just wanted a little more leverage.

Suddenly Lance was pushing away from him, grabbing onto Shiro and tearing out of the room. Of course a lot of people saw them, it was obvious with the fire that burned around them both. They could hear the loud yells as they raced down the hall, the music swelling as Lance turned a corner and suddenly was pressing up against Shiro.

The first kiss was hard, rushed, but easily melted as Shiro brought his hand up. The second was a little more chaste, unsteady, reluctant in a way.

Shiro clawed back, trying to keep Lance’s interest, but he saw the look in his eyes. Uncertain, thoughtful, a bit scared.

He paused, letting his hands come up to touch his husband’s face. They could wait, they had all the time in the world to do this. 

So he came forward again, letting a soft kiss linger between them for a moment.

He smiled feeling Lance relax in his hands, eyes closed and humming expectantly as Shiro leaned back to watch. He huffed, of course Lance wanted more attention, and he was going to give him everything. 

Shiro came forward again, pressing his lips to the corner of Lance’s mouth this time, then his cheek, then both eyelids. He dusted Lance’s face with kisses. 

He was calm by the time Shiro stopped, blush gone and gold now smeared a bit from the sweat and Shiro gripping him.

Shiro chuckled “You didn’t get drunk like you said you were.”

“No,” Lance hummed, leaning into his chest. “I figured this would be better if I was sane.”

“Hmm, I would have liked to see you tipsy.” Shiro grabbed hold of his hand, gently leading Lance along the halls. He wasn’t sure where they were supposed to go. Lance had his own room, but Shiro’s was more accommodating for two and had plenty of blankets for them. It was supposed to be cold that night.

“You wouldn’t be able to handle me.” Lance sided up to him, hip bumping out to make Shiro stumble.

“I wasn’t even able to handle you now.” 

“Yeah,” Lance’s grin was wide. “You didn’t.”

Lance’s hand trailed low, sending a whole other round of warmth and energy through Shiro’s body. He still aches, half hard from all of Lance’s menstrations and movements against him. Shiro tried hard not to think about his ass rocking back against him, slow meeting of hips as they moved.

A blush settled over him. For a moment he wondered if people were actually watching them like that. It was obvious what they were doing, slow movements all that more noticable. And Lance was anything but subtle in the way he moved. He had tipped forward, letting Shiro catch a good glimpse at the way he arched and spread his legs, head tilted as he looked back and smiled at him. If Lance had more room and felt more comfortable, there was no telling how far he would go with a dance like that.

It thrilled Shiro. He had a mate who was willing to put both of them through the wringer and embarrass the hell out of them both. 

_Mate._

Shiro stared after Lance. He was supposed to mark him tonight.

His stomach twisted painfully. Besides, how could he? Lance had yet to present, so would he even be able to? He hoped the bond wouldn’t be affected by something so trivial as Lance’s presentation schedule. 

But he wanted to talk with Lance first, at least have something to eat. They had all night, and maybe Lance was not feeling up to it. He did look exhausted.

They stumbled along for a bit longer, till it got to the point where Lance wanted to be carried. Shiro loved it, loved how Lance pressed himself close to Shiro’s back and nuzzled into his hair, arms around his shoulders as they wandered down the halls.

Shiro still had no idea where they wanted to go, but he felt a strange burst of coldness around him, like Lance would say no. “Lance… do you want to go back to your room? I can get some blankets and things.”

Lance tightened around him, legs clamping around Shiro’s waist. His voice was small. “No, no, your room is fine. I want to stay with you, if that’s okay.”

Shiro laughed. “I wasn’t thinking about dropping you off by yourself.”

“Oh! Okay, uhm, I don’t know. My bed isn’t… it’s not too terrible big. The pillows take up most of the room.” He carded his fingers through Shiro’s hair, kissing his ear in the process. His little sudden anxiety fit was gone. “It helps when I’m away from my family.”

“You spend a lot of time with them, don’t you?”

“Yeah, every moment, awake and asleep. I don’t think I have slept in my own bed alone all my life. Even Hunk is there when they’re not.” He pressed his head back into Shiro’s neck. He hoped Lance didn’t feel embarrassed, it sounded lovely. He’s only ever had that with Allura, and those times are rare now that they’re older. 

“Must be hard when you travel,” Shiro said, trying to turn and get a glimpse of his Lance’s face. It was covered by his arm though.

“Ha, yeah, they’re hard to part with. Mama calls us her little flock of doves. Says we’re always cooing at each other and don’t stray far.”

Shiro smiled. He would love to hear Lance coo to him in such a way. Soft, little intimate sounds that only he got to hear.

He paused. They were outside his door already, having arrived much faster than he wished. He let Lance slip off his back, turning the handle to let his mate in.

Shiro waited, watched as Lance paused and took in the room a moment before walking in fully. His head moved as he looked around, eyes glancing over every bit of furniture and piece of decoration in the place. He drifted and smoothed a hand over Shiro’s desk, situated further back in the room next to a long row of windows. It was dark, but the light from the city cut through in a warm way, illuminating Lance once again as he wandered.

He breathed deep. Shiro didn’t realize he had been holding his breath. He hoped Lance liked it. This would be their new home for while, till they could find their own. It was big enough for them both, with a separate room off to the side and a small kitchen as well.

Lance whistled. “Damn, it’s like your own apartment.”

Shiro chuckled, finally stepping in and closing the door after him.

Lance went on his little journey, touching some of the things Shiro had on his shelves, over the long row upon row of books, all ranging in different sciences to his own personal ones. He even wandered into the bathroom and separate sitting area, constantly moving and touching things. He moved to the kitchen and proceeded to open every single cabinet and door there.

Lance grumbled. “You don’t have much in the way of food.”

Shiro started forward, he almost forgot. “I can go get you some stuff, so you don’t have to make anything.” 

“Okay,” Lance beamed, a bit of his fatigue setting in then. Shiro should have paid attention more. They were mates now, he had to take care of Lance. 

“But,” Lance said, wandering back into the bedroom. He pointed at the bed. “May I?”

Shiro snorted, yeah, he was going to have fun. “Of course.”

Lance didn’t hesitate to throw himself onto the bed and roll around for a moment. He rumpled the sheets, tugging at them before smoothing them out again. Shiro watched, eyes roaming as he took in Lance lounging there, stretched out on his side and pressing his face into Shiro’s pillows. He could tell Lance was scenting them, and warmth spread through Shiro’s body.

He came forward, catching Lance’s gaze as he moved, and leaned over him. He pressed a kiss to Lance’s temple, then his cheek, and so on down just to the curve of his collarbone, which was tragically covered up by his body suit. He kissed both of Lance’s shoulders instead when he rolled over to face Shiro, touching the pretty freckles and gold markings he had left their earlier.

His voice felt too deep for the moment. “Anything you want in particular? I’m pretty sure I can get you everything if you asked.”

Lance hummed at that, but took to playing with Shiro’s hair instead, running his lips lazily along Shiro’s arm before kissing there. “No, I’m not a very particular person.” 

Something shown in Lance’s eyes as he said that, and Shiro couldn’t contain himself. He leaned forward and captured Lance’s chin, kissing him hard for a moment. Lance gasped against his lips before pressing back, hands coming up to circle around his neck.

Shiro pulled off, giving a few more gentle kisses to Lance’s shoulder as he moved away. 

It was hard to leave the room with Lance watching him the whole time with those blue eyes, but he managed it, taking a deep breath when he closed the door behind him before quickly making his way down the hall to the kitchens. He didn’t want to stay away for too long, his chest already was swelling with a need to see Lance.

He wondered what mating with him would be like. Shiro knew having a bond was supposed to be strong, was supposed to leave you winded after the rush of hormones took over.

Now, he couldn't believe what that would be like if he was already feeling torn being away from Lance for only a few minutes after getting married.

He snuck into the kitchen, snatching as much as he could carry for the both of them, before slipping out and heading back down the halls. He paused as his thoughts roamed, thinking about the marks that were still on him and Lance. Shiro turned back, picking up his pace a little more so no one would catch him, and so he wouldn't be away for too long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for read! Comments and ideas make my day so don't hesitate to send me some messages!


	3. A Great Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're finally have the rest of the night to themselves, but Shiro's doubts and anxieties keep rising to the surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a little bit more suggestive things, and some outright explicit stuff, so enjoy!

Shiro wandered back down the hall, hoping not to drop anything in his haste. He glanced around feeling weird about this whole situation, but he was delighted. He was taking care of his husband. He puffed up his chest, proud to be able to take care of Lance like this.

He rounded a corner nearly colliding with someone, stopping just before his side connected with them. He glanced at them for a moment before glaring. He didn’t like how close they were to his room, despite them being an omega. 

They jumped, mouth opening to say something before snapping it shut. He noted the black hair and dark eyes. Shiro has seen this omega wandering around before, always taking to themselves and preferring to be oddity in the Shirogane home. He couldn’t place a name.

Shiro paused a moment longer, trying to collect himself to move on. The man was wearing white. Shiro growled low. No one was supposed to wear white at weddings.

The man flinched, backing away and dipping his head to let Shiro pass, but when that wasn’t enough, he rushed off in the opposite direction. 

Shiro huffed, staring after the smaller man.

Did he really just posture at an omega? 

Shiro growled again, irritation growing at the sudden intrusion. He continued on, Lance coming back to the forefront of his mind.

The room was dark when he entered, only the dim city lights streaming in through the still open windows. Shiro glanced around a moment before falling on Lance’s form. He was exactly where Shiro had left him, now curled up in a small nest of pillows and breathing deep and slow. Shiro inched forward, setting everything down on the small table at the foot of his bed before kicking his shoes off and crawling up on it. 

Lance barely moved when Shiro pushed close. He nuzzled Lance’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to the gold mark there before moving up to the fabric at his neck. Lance was warm with sleep, and he woke up easily, but slowly. He hummed deep, recognizing Shiro’s scent and turned towards him.

Lance yawned but then cracked his eyes open, blearily looking around. He glanced up at Shiro. “I swear if it’s morning I’m going to kill myself.”

“Why would you say that?” Shiro asked, running his nose along the line of Lance’s jaw.

“Because that means I didn’t get to spend our first night with you. I planned to stay up all night.” Lance pouted, but tipped his head back to let Shiro kiss his neck. 

“Well, good thing it’s still late, actually, it’s three in the morning.”

“I slept for an hour! Where did you go?” Lance squirmed under him, arching up as Shiro kept tickling his neck with kisses. He let his teeth scrape for a moment and heard Lance gasp. It was a beautiful sound.

“I got us something to eat,” Shiro said, letting up on Lance’s neck for a moment. “And I snuck back into the hall to grab some stuff. You did say you didn’t get to mark me as much as you wanted.”

Lance’s eyes widened. He sat up, fully awake and looked about the room around them, looking for everything Shiro brought back. He sat still as Shiro gathered his things, hearing Lance’s stomach rumble suddenly and laughed. “I should have got you food sooner.”

“It’s okay, we were having fun at the party.” Lance leaned forward and kissed Shiro’s cheek. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Shiro balked, watching as Lance started tearing into some bread.

“For being so kind. I’m not used to alpha’s on this sort of… intimate level, I didn’t know what to expect. I’m just happy you’re so kind.” He pressed a bit of bread into his mouth, smiling as he chewed away. 

Shiro watched him for a while, marveling at how much food Lance could pack away, wondering how he managed to have someone so gentle and thoughtful. Eventually he joined, once Lance had pressed some cheese to his mouth and wouldn’t let up until Shiro took it and swallowed. “You need to eat too, big guy.”

He chucked, and pressed up against Lance, munching on some slices of cake he managed to snag and taking whatever Lance offered him. It was strange seeing Lance avoid some of the sweet stuff, he guessed since it was too late in the night. But Lance was more than willing to lick it off his face when Shiro got icing on his chin. He may, once or twice, accidentally smeared some on his face so Lance would kiss him some more.

He loved how warm Lance felt. His mouth was even more magical than before, livelier than ever as he licked at Shiro’s chin and lip. Shiro tilted back his head as Lance continued, hands roaming over his sides. They moved up, smoothing over his chest to his neck. Lance pulled himself up and over Shiro, pressing his legs up to get more leverage. 

A thigh drug up between Shiro’s legs as teeth grazed over his neck, right over a gland. He groaned, closing his thighs over Lance’s. A burst of heat enveloped him within moments, and then coldness as his gland was touched, calming him in a moment into a lulled daze. 

Shiro rumbled deep in his chest, arms coming up to brace against Lance in an attempt to gain some control back.

Shiro pushed him back a bit, seeing Lance blush at what he did and sat further up. “S~sorry, I didn’t mean to get that close. I’m sorry!”

“No! Lance it’s,” he groaned again. “It’s okay, you’re doing nothing wrong.”

Lance looked hesitant, but reached forward anyway to touch Shiro’s neck again. 

“I just thought you wouldn’t want to yet.”

Lance laughed. “And here I thought I was being obvious all night.” He gazed down at Shiro, fingers hovering and then touching over Shiro’s neck once more. A shiver went up his spine as those fingers traced the small bumps. Shiro could feel them swelling at the attention. “I’ve never been able to do this.”

Shiro groaned, rolling his hips up almost instinctively as Lance’s fingers rubbed back and forth. He didn’t mean to, but it happened. There was no way to stop himself feeling Lance’s weight on top of him and his hands _there_ of all places.

He was aching. His body slowly working its way into an inferno. Every slow touch and graze of nails on his glands had Shiro panting, tilting his head back more to expose his neck further. Lance took his time, so the boiling heat in his stomach reached a peak and then drug on. He groaned and gripped at the sheets, tearing into them as Lance’s thumb pressed into the other gland, holding his neck tight and rubbing in mind numbing circles.

Shiro’s eyes rolled back and he moaned.

Lance pulled his hand away, whistle escaping him once more as he watched Shiro pant and try to come back to reality.

“You’re really responsive,” Lance laughed.

He leaned forward as Shiro’s eyes closed, trying to collect the puddle of a body he left behind as he floated into ecstasy, and kissed his chin.

“You okay?” There was a bit of worried mared in his husband’s voice. Shiro groaned, trying to clear the fog that filled his head.

He swallowed. Shiro was hard and felt himself aching. And with the way Lance was smiling and blushing, he had felt it too. 

“Y-yeah, I think so.” Shiro jolted as Lance’s hands came back up and held his face, but melted into him as Lance pressed a slow kiss to his lips.

“Thank you for letting me do that,” Lance breathed, nipping at his mouth.

“You can keep doing it,” Shiro said. His body was starting to float away again feeling Lance’s fingertips start to rub in slow circles once more.

“Hmm, okay, but I wanted to do some other stuff too.” Lance glanced away, blush creeping lower. Shiro could see it on his shoulders for a moment. “If you’ll let me.”

“Anything you want.” Shiro nuzzled Lance. He wished the man wouldn’t ask to do everything. He didn’t need to ask permission all the time. If Lance wanted it, he should only have to say so.

“Really?” The smile that spread over Lance’s face warmed Shiro. It was feisty, mouth quirking up at the corner to match.

Lance still hesitated, fingers gliding over Shiro’s chest and dipping down along his shirt to his stomach. It was getting warm with all this clothing. Shiro should have chose something else to wear, but he had to dress the political part too. Lance, well, he looked dashing in anything. Shiro’s pride actually swelled, the suit he had picked out fit Lance’s form perfectly. It showed the shape of his legs, the broadness of his chest. 

Shiro reached up, running his hands along Lance’s sides, wishing to take off the loose, flowing fabric that laid across his arms and wrapped around his waist. It was similar to the one he gave Shiro, a mix of blues and gold. But his had designs that moved and shimmered in the light, gold woven in a way that matched the movement of waves Lance was born near.

He must miss the beach. The Shirogane home was nowhere near any beaches, it took a few hours to drive to one. Maybe… they could live near one. He knew Lance would be ecstatic, but Shiro wasn’t so sure he could move just then. He wanted his mate to be happy, but his father was still here, and his health has not been the best. 

Lance cooed suddenly, drawing Shiro out of his thoughts. “Shiro?”

He looked up at Lance, smile growing over his face after a moment. “Sorry, I was thinking about where we would live.”

That caught Lance off guard. He swallowed, looking down at Shiro’s chest for a moment. He was doing it again, staring off at anything to distract himself.

“I was thinking… maybe we could live by the beach. I’ve never really been there longer than a few days and the warm weather sounds nice. It would be interesting to walk out during the winter in shorts.” 

Lance was staring at him, biting his lip to hold back the excitement that was building. Shiro could see it in his eyes, the way his hands trembled. He shot forward and gripped Shiro. Arms wrapping around his neck, hands hard as they grabbed, tight around Shiro’s body and Lance pressed flush against him.

“A-are you sure,” he hiccuped. “I know you love it here.”

Lance looked up at him, smile the brightest Shiro has ever seen him. His own little star.

“It gets dreary here, and besides, the place is too big.” Shiro kissed the freckles that lined the curve of his cheek. “This place, it never has been mine. I was raised here, the memories I have here are because of the people. It’s the state’s, it won’t feel like ours.”

Lance looked about them for a moment, taking in the fine details of the place. It was true, all the walls had been painted to fit Shiro, things were added into the room, shelves put in place, curtains replaced. But the overall feel wasn’t his, the architecture, the molding, the high ceiling and curling crests over every door. It was not him.

Lance realized that, catching onto all these small things. He turned back to Shiro. “You’re right, everything is too old.”

“Old?” Shiro cocked a brow at him. Shiro tried his best to modernize his space.

“Yeah,” Lance said, turning back to him. “You’re too sleek for all the molding and buttresses.”

He emphasized the last word, rolling it over playfully as he slipped off Shiro and stood from the bed.

Shiro grabbed his hand, keeping him from straying too far. “Where are you going?”

“Getting undressed. This suit gets a little hot after a while.”

“How so?” Shiro sat up as well, pulling Lance close to him as he watched the lean man work at the tie around his waist.

“You’ll see soon,” Lance winked. “Besides, I think I’m going to take a bath to wake up a little.”

“Lance, you don’t have to stay up all night.”

“But I am! I’m going to stay up all night with you and then we can sleep in all day tomorrow. They’re not expecting us either, so I’m not going to surprise them with showing up suddenly to breakfast if I don’t have to.”

Shiro laughed, deep sounds muffled when Lance leaned down to kiss him again. They’ve been doing this for hours, and yet, he would never get over it.

“Well, before you go any farther,” Shiro hummed. He stopped Lance’s hand as it tugged at his shawl. “I thought we were supposed to undress each other.”

Lance choked on air for a second. It startled Shiro, hearing the sharp intake in breath and then Lance doubled over and started coughing. He rubbed Lance’s back, trying settle him, but Lance was laughing.

“You’re really that eager to see me, aren’t you?”

“Says the guy who was grinding on me in public and then got me all on my back an hour later.” Lance huffed at him and let Shiro’s hands roam up under the fabric as he loosened it, letting the material slip from his waist and arms. Shiro breathed when he saw the curve of his tilted hip, his waist trim and tight in the suit.

He pulled Lance forward, seeing the dip of his belly button in the fabric and how it gave like latex under Shiro’s menstrations. He breathed deep, leaning in to bite at the fabric, feeling Lance hiss as he pinched his skin. He pulled away, smoothing his hands along Lance’s waist again as he moved to another spot, wetting the fabric with his tongue as he bit again.

“This okay?”

Lance nodded his head, biting his lip as he reached out to touch Shiro. “Yeah, you’re good.”

Lance’s hands were in his hair then, dipping down and tugging at the ribbon tied at the back of Shiro’s neck. He tugged gently, pulling the collar away and then worked his fingers under Shiro’s shirt and jacket. Lance’s hands roamed down, nails scratching at Shiro’s back as he huffed and winced from the bites along sensitive skin. 

The nails felt amazing. Shiro’s skin was warm from all the layers and the heat in the room. The added bit of contact had his blood boiling, heat bubbling low in his stomach again as he went on.

“Shiro,” Lance called. “Your jacket.”

They pushed back, Lance’s hands on him in an instant, reaching for his belt to help undo the confining mess around him. It was all too hot. An angry, irritated whine came from Lance when he stumbled upon the pins, tearing at them to undo the garment around Shiro’s waist and arms. He leaned back on his hands, face burning as he realized how close Lance was to him. It shook his core, feeling a hand grip his thigh, and then the other finally pulling apart the delicate fabric to reveal the rest of his suit.

He groaned. This was too much, they had to go slower, they had to talk. They had yet to set up any boundaries with each other.

But he could not ignore his excitement either. Lance wanted him! He really did, honestly, want Shiro! 

He could see it in the way his hands tremble, unbuttoning his jacket and leaning up to try and slip it off his shoulders. Lance’s gaze flickered up to him. It burned Shiro further, eyes having grown dark in the low light and cool blue swallowed up by black. He was breathing hard, in no way trying to control himself as he hauled Shiro up to his feet, still trying to shove his jacket down. He only got it down around one shoulder before getting distracted.

“You’re bath?” Shiro chuffed, after Lance had decided to latch back onto Shiro’s neck and suck.

“Fuck it,” he breathed over the bruising mark. “I’m already awake.”

“Lance.”

The man buried himself in Shiro’s neck again, latching onto the partly swollen glands. The initial shock that went through him left his legs trembling. He has never been oversensitized there before, but he bet this is what it felt like. His spine sparked and energy coursed through his body all at once. His head buzzed till all he could concentrate on was the scent of his own musk that filled the room and the points of contact Lance had with his skin.

Suddenly his thigh came up again, connecting with Shiro’s crotch in a slow grind forward. 

Shiro growled, gripping onto Lance’s shoulders. He needed a moment. He needed Lance to stop. All the touches were sending him over. He didn’t need to go into a rut now. He needed to stay sane for Lance.

Lance seemed to understand, eyes wide at the realization. He leaned forward though, kissing Shiro gently for a moment. “I’m sorry, I guess I should go take a bath after all.”

“It’s okay, keep doing what you want, baby, I’m fine, just need a moment to calm down,” Shiro groaned, pressing his own kiss back.

Shiro’s eyes widened when Lance laughed at the pet name. “Are you going to use that one on me now?”

“Uh, only if you want me to.” Shiro felt like hiding. He let that slip so easily, but then again, Lance made everything so easy and natural. The little lilt to his movements and tilted head said a whole other story. Lance was holding his head up, eyes half-lidded as he gazed at Shiro.

“I’d like that very much.” He turned, reaching back behind him to grab the front of Shiro’s suit. “Okay now unzip me, I need to get out of this now.”

Shiro liked this sudden change in the air. It was light, still playful, but not nearly as heavy and needy as it had been before. He tried to tell that to his dick, which only twitched seeing the span of Lance’s back facing him. He reached up, taking hold of the zipper, smoothly dragging it down over the swell of his shoulder blades before dipping in to his waist. Shiro was so spellbound seeing so much of his husband’s skin on display.

He was soft. Shiro indulged himself a bit, letting a finger trace over the bumps of Lance’s spine as he continued dragging the zipper down. He looked up, meeting those blue eyes. They were gently, calm as Lance looked back over his shoulder. 

“Can I?” Lance nodded, but jolted feeling a cold hand slip in and touch his side. “Sorry!”

“It’s okay,” Lance laughed. “It feels good.”

Shiro kept up his little journey for a few more moments. The hard movement and curve of Lance’s shoulder blades was enticing. He wanted to leave a mark there. Shiro moved away after a moment so Lance could finally slip out of the tight material. The zipper was low, since this had been Shiro’s at one time, and he jerked realizing how low it actually was. Shiro could see the dimples on Lance’s lower back, just above the curve of his ass. He had seamless red briefs on.

Lance was slipping the top of his suit off before Shiro could even pull his hands way. He drunk in every plane and curve before him, marveling at the movements as Lance went to take off his jewelry.

Shiro’s hands came up, stopping him. He wanted to see Lance with all the gold on him. He already had some things in mind to paint along Lance’s spine and stomach.

“Shiro?”

He jolted, yanking his hands away from Lance.

“I’m sorry… I’m not going to touch you unless you want me to, Lance,” he said, trying to gather his straying thoughts and looked down as the man turned towards him.

“Well,” he chuckled, leaning in to press soft chaste kisses along Shiro’s neck. “Good thing I want you to.” 

His mouth opened, tongue running up the length of Shiro’s neck, following the curve of his glands at the soft hollow of his neck. Shiro shivered, ice crawling up his spine and prickling his skin, head buzzing as he tried to take a deep breath in. 

Lance had his hold on him again. That was never going to get old, and Shiro never wanted it to end. He was so easy, he would admit it. If Lance put his hands on him, there was no way he could pull his attention away until Lance was done. 

But now he had to break away from the kiss Lance had been working in his skin, teeth scraping over prickling flesh and warm muscle. Shiro was vibrating from the attention, but he needed to show Lance something. 

“I~I brought it back,” he moaned, pushing back far enough to get in some air that wasn’t permeated by Lance’s scent. “I know you wanted to do more.”

Lance paused to follow him, watching Shiro dig in his collection of things on the table, picking up the bowl of gold paint that he had stolen from the hall. 

“Did you really steal this from a parson?” He was staring off, fond smile stretching over his face as he dipped his fingers through the semi wet paint. “Maybe we can do it tomorrow.”

“N-no! I know you wanted to do some more.”

He begged Lance, pleaded nearly as he watched. Lance was mulling it over in his head. He wanted this, wanted a few more minutes like that with Lance.

“Okay.” His voice was soft. “The paint won’t last till morning anyway.”

Shiro breathed in deep. He couldn’t help himself from shoving forward then. Right into Lance’s space and tasting the air around him. He was gorgeous and warm, eyes bright as he laughed in the dark and met Shiro’s nuzzle, arching his back up to let Shiro’s face rest in the curve of his shoulder and neck easier.

“But, are you going to be okay… with me?”

“Yeah,” Shiro said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, I did almost send you into a rut,” Lance said, fingers trailing up his chest. The touch sent prickles up his spine, following the slow movement up to his neck. “Plus, I’ve never met someone with such a strong smell. It’s going to be sticking to me for days.”

That thought caved Shiro. He pushed forward, gripping the back of Lance’s neck to tilt his head and slam his mouth against that waiting smile. He growled low, starting in his chest and vibrating up into his throat.

Lance groaned, pressing his bare chest up and against Shiro, mouth opening to let the alpha’s tongue rove over him, tasting him and smoothing along his teeth. He wanted Lance to smell like him, through and through, and determined to make Lance as much of a mess as he was.

His tongue pressed in, running over the roof of his mouth, teeth grazing swollen lips as he pressed more. Lance let his teeth drag over sensitive flesh too, whenever Shiro pulled back to breathe, he pushed in and nipped at his mouth.

Lance’s hands came up and nails raked down the back of his neck.

He yelped when Shiro suddenly flattened him out on the bed, mouth coming down on his neck and teeth bared against tanned skin. 

Shiro was shaking. He was tense and strung out, responding to the body under him and the noises that followed. He ground his hips down, laving his tongue along the perfect column of skin presented to his face, from gentle roll of the shoulder to the sharp cut of his jawline.

Lance shook, skin heating up under Shiro’s mouth. He could feel it, feel the movement of blood in his body and the interest that rose between his legs.

Shiro huffed, appreciating the swells of noise and how his chest rose and shuddered while trying to take in air. This was what he wanted. He wanted to run his tongue along him, in every curve and crevasse. He wanted to mark up Lance’s perfectly smooth skin and feel the heat radiating from him as ecstasy tore through his limbs. 

He… needed to wait. He wanted Lance’s fingers to trace over every line of his body, leaving behind warmth and sweat as he moved. He needed Lance’s mouth, parting as he gasped, but soft as he swallowed down Shiro’s sounds.

Shiro wanted to feel Lance’s skin against his own. Slow rhythms as they affixed to one another and rode out the heat between them.

He needed to get his shirt off.

He had to get himself together and cool down.

Shiro’s hands moved down between them to work at his jacket, hand grazing Lance’s skin. 

Lance hissed, jolting away at the touch suddenly. Shiro sat up. He hadn’t realized what hand he was using. His heart plummeted when Lance moved up with him. 

“Whoa,” Lance spoke up. “I wasn’t expecting your hand to be that cold.”

He pressed close again, mouth against Shiro’s neck, but the warmth was already gone. The pleasant reality snapping in a moment, realizing what he had done, and the fire died out in an instant.

Lance didn’t like his touch. Not with that hand. He curled it up in a tight fist, clutching at the sheets under him.

“Hey, hey,” Lance said. His hands came up to tilt Shiro’s head back, smoothing back his rampant hair. “Did… did I do something wrong?”

No! Never! Shiro watched him, seeing the worry in his blue eyes, how his hands hesitated to move up and touch now. Lance would never do anything wrong. It was his own fault, he should be paying more attention to where he was touching. He shouldn’t be so pushy.

Shiro leaned in to him, rubbing his head along Lance’s shoulder. He had to put his mate at ease. This was not his fault, nothing would put the man at fault. Lance was only stuck up in the middle of Shiro’s own indecisive thoughts and it was hurting him.

He didn’t want to hurt his baby. He wanted to be able to see his smile and put both hands on him without having to worry about how he would jolt away, or hearing the excuses Lance gave to not hurt Shiro’s heart. It still ached though, knowing Lance wasn’t going to take that part of him easily. Shiro always got those lingering glances in public, and he wished to find some kind of solace here with Lance, alone in their room. Guess not even his mate could handle it though.

Lance suddenly pushed off of him.

“Shiro, what the hell,” Lance snapped, brows furrowing in agitation. “What am I doing wrong?”

Shiro jumped. Lance had yet to snap at him like that, or anyone. He's never heard of the man being irritated in such a way, frustrated, nails drawing hard lines against his own skin. 

“Nothing! Lance, you're doing nothing wrong!” Shiro felt that panic swell in him. He needed to make his mate feel better.

“Then why are you fucking pushing me away so much? You're taking every opportunity you can to do that!” He laughed, it was harsh and disdainful. “I should have expected nothing less. You don't want anything to do with someone who hasn't presented yet.”

“No, no!” Shiro panicked, he had to fix this. “None of it is your fault!”

“Then why do you keep acting like it is? Why won't you talk to me?”

He wanted to tell him, wanted to say everything that plagued his mind. But all of it stuck in his throat. When his words were so easy to say, that he had his own problems to work through, they stuck and rooted him to the spot.

He was afraid of what Lance would think of him.

Lance huffed, pulling his suit back up to cover some of his skin.

“I'm going to go take that bath.”

Shiro stared at the floor. He heard Lance moving around, first drifting to the closet to snatch some clothes, but then headed to the bathroom.

He locked the door, and Shiro flinched.

Shiro wished he could swallow all his bad feelings and hide them, at least for one night. He didn’t want to disappoint Lance anymore, didn’t want to have to keep pushing him away. He needed Lance, wanted to have him, wanted to have some peace and be content knowing they were fine with each other, that this was not going to be a problem between them. He wanted Lance to be himself and be as loud as he wanted.

He wanted Lance to have fun. Wanted to be the only person he ever thought about or needed.

When Shiro came back from his thoughts, the room was dark, cold from the air outside.

Shiro sighed, unsure about how to proceed. Well, he needed to not look so formal first. He stripped off his jacket, willing his hands to cooperate and actually unbutton what he asked them to do. 

He dropped it to the floor. He didn't care anymore about presentation, even if the suit would get wrinkled. But his hands itched, he wanted to see Lance.

He heard nothing from the other side of the door as he drew near. It was oddly quiet, except for a few sounds of water shifting.

Wow, he could smell Lance. Beautiful and heavy on his skin and in the air. It stuck to him, clung to the back of his throat from all the kissing.

He had to do something. He wasn't going to let Lance go to sleep feeling like he did. He'd rather confront him now than in the morning, when the air had settled and developed a staleness around them.

He dreaded that.

“You know,” Lance called. “I can smell you through the door, it’s kind of obvious.”

It was, since they scented each other so much the past hour. He drummed his fingers on the door, thinking that maybe if Lance would let him in he could change this somehow. He could smell Lance too, no matter how faint. Then there was the hot, humid air, carrying the smell of oranges. A fake scent that was already covering up what Shiro had rubbed on him earlier. 

His body tensed. Why was Lance trying to cover up everything? 

His voice sounded clearer. “If I let you in, are we going to talk?”

“Yes,” Shiro breathed. He heard the water shift, drips falling into the bath. He practically could see Lance moving, standing up out of his bathtub and moving to grab a towel. There was a soft sound of fabric rubbing along skin, then the quiet of Lance standing on tile. He tried hard to stifle the growl that rose in his chest.

“You better not shut me out again, Takashi.” He could smell Lance, right on the other side of the door. 

“I won’t,” Shiro said. “I promise.” He keyed into the sounds, listening for Lance to touch the door, to unlock it and turn the handle. He heard the nails, the light touch of his fingertips, could practically feel Lance breathe. But he could also feel how shaky Lance was.

Shiro was too, taking in a deep, shuddering breath as Lance pulled back the door. His hair was curling more from the heat, eyes downcast as he stood there in the light. It flooded Shiro, all of it at once.

His smell, the heat, the brightness. Shiro wanted to reach up and touch him, touch the gold marks that lingered on his skin still. He was surprised Lance had yet to wash them away.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Shiro stepped closer.

“Like you want to devour me,” Lance said. He stepped back as Shiro moved closer again, but not nearly as much room remained between them.

“But I do.” He closed the door behind him, taking Lance’s bare shoulder and running his fingers along the warm, damp skin. The gold smeared a bit under his fingers. Shiro wanted to leave more on his skin. It looked flawless, unclaimed and open for his touch.

He looked up to Lance’s face and the gaze stilled him. It was hard, unyielding. Shiro’s hand dropped.

“You’re going to go sit on that counter, and you’re going to talk to me.” Lance voice was sharp, deep, as he spoke. A heaviness grew in Shiro’s chest hearing it, weighing on his stomach and his body ached. He didn’t want to disappoint Lance.

“And no peeking.” Shiro barely managed to glance away as Lance moved back to the tub, discarding his towel on the floor before sinking back down into the warm water. 

Shiro tried to breathe again, but his chest ached. This was already eating him alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! Comments make my day and motivate me to do more for all of you!


	4. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro and Lance are finally able to talk and clear up the air between them. Somewhat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait but I finally found time to write again!
> 
>  
> 
> **PLEASE READ**
> 
>  
> 
> **!!Warnings!! There is talk of suicide in this chapter, so be careful guys!!**

He turned away, letting Lance slip further into the water without prying, arms up over the edge as he relaxed back. Luckily the water was clouded, a natural orange to it that explained the scent surrounding him, so when Shiro turned back his gaze didn't linger too long. He didn't allow himself that. They needed to talk, but watching Lance this way, in such an open setting, had his heart fluttering in his chest.

Shiro stared a moment longer, heat spreading across his frame seeing the curve over Lance's chest as he breathed and neck open as his head tilted. It was such an open gesture, at ease in Shiro's space, but his face was still thoughtful and hard. 

Lance turned his head that last inch to look up at him. Shiro’s eyes drifted from the exposed length of his neck to the knee that came up, smooth, elegant in its slow movement. He tried hard to wrench his eyes from Lance, but it was too much to take in.

His mouth felt dry, oddly, because his mouth was also watering watching how Lance moved and adjusted to look at him, leaning his head on the edge of the tub. Shiro's shirt felt like it clung to his form with all the humidity in the air.

“Shiro.”

His eyes snapped up to meet a narrow, icy gaze.

Shiro’s shoulders dropped. He was being an idiot, like he was back to that first week he presented, fawning after every sweet scented and moving person around.

“Are we really going to get nowhere with this?” Lance’s legs moved again, crossing in the water. He must feel vulnerable like that. “You promised to talk, now _talk_.” 

Shiro licked his lips, trying to form the words in his head. But the look Lance gave, it was hard to come up with anything. He has never had an omega’s glare like this before. It was stifling and left him battered. His head ached from the onslaught. Shiro wondered what Lance would be like once he presented. Overwhelming, probably. But beautiful still.

Shiro shook his head. This should be natural. He should be able to tell Lance what was on his mind, but every time something came to the front of his thought, he looked up at Lance and realized that was not a good enough excuse for the way he has been acting.

But… what had he done exactly? What was Lance so mad about? 

He wasn’t going to voice any of that, of course. Lance would probably shut him out for good. He should get everything out there first.

“I’m,” Shiro paused. His heart was so erratic. Luckily Lance had turned his attention away, but he was rubbing at his arms with the scented water. Shiro’s stomach churned. He wanted Lance to stop doing that. He loved his smell.

“Lance, please listen.”

“You don’t have room to say that,” he snapped back.

“I have all the room to say it!” Shiro bit the inside of his cheek. He shouldn’t have been so loud. He tried again. “If you want me to talk, then please, listen.”

“Then go ahead, _talk_ , I’m not going to ask again.”

Shiro felt the tweak in his lip, the curl as a growl rose up. This was so damn frustrating. He never met someone so infuriating before. Lance talked so much he wouldn’t let others get their input in unless he wanted it.

Shiro sighed to himself. He shouldn’t think that. Lance was soft and kind, but backed into a corner. Shiro was too though.

He saw Lance’s hands dip back into the water, this time cupping it to smooth over his face and the gold markings there. 

Shiro lurched forward, grabbing onto his wrist and yanking.

Lance jerked back, small sound escaping him as his eyes flew open. They were hard, hurt, furious, a mix between emotions that ran rampant as he tore his arm away, teeth bared.

Shiro's world snapped. He jumped away from Lance, from the situation, trying to grapple with what he had done. The eyes, they cut the most, full of disappointment and uneasiness.

“Never touch me like that again, Mr. Shirogane,” Lance snapped.

He stood up suddenly and Shiro scrambled to look away, to keep his eyes from trailing up high along his thighs. But the heat and musk was there, it burned Shiro’s throat, and he wanted another taste. He wanted to lick up Lance’s sweat like he had done before, salt and earthen scents mingling together.

Shiro kept his eyes down though, gripping onto the tubs edge. He knew the capability of his prosthetic, never used it for anything, but now he felt like crushing the edge of the tub in his hand. He felt Lance step out and open the drain. Shiro let the sounds of the water wash over him for a moment, if only to think of something else.

He had lost it. Lance was making him crazy. All the smells, the heat coursing through him, all the touching before and then sudden shutting down had his head whirling.

He stared at the water as it drained, if only to collect himself, to use it as a way to wash all these rampant, primal emotions out of his system. Shiro was a leader by birth, had grown into it. He knew what to do in all situations, how to speak to others, what cues to give. But this? Every time he turned to try something else the door was slammed in his face.

Lance came back then, dropping something next to Shiro. He jumped, trying to give Lance space, tearing his eyes away from the soft skin of Lance's thigh as he stood there.

Shiro glanced down at what he brought. It was another soap, one Shiro recognized that had no scent, natural and soft to the touch. He never used it before, he had no reason to use it. 

Lance stepped around him. Shiro tried so hard not to lean over and rub his head along his thigh. He wanted to plead, to beg for Lance’s forgiveness. He should have never done that! Shiro never knew he could do that. But his want, his need to have Lance must have pushed him. 

He should leave, before he made it worse. Who knew what else he would do! He shouldn’t be getting anyone's attention like this, he shouldn’t be demanding it, pushing to get what he wants. Shiro never wanted to treat his mate like this, not since he was a kid. He was going to treasure them, treat them like the wonderful person they were, pamper and spoil them to no end. 

He was never supposed to be this rough. Never had he expected to have his thoughts and emotions run wild like this. Is this what it was like? Was he so determined to mate with Lance that he wasn’t going to listen to reason anymore? He hoped he would never hurt him, but after this, Shiro didn’t know what to expect. Would having a bond make this worse?

He wanted to grovel in himself for a moment longer, to look like a fool in front of Lance, to try and beg for his forgiveness. But that wouldn’t be enough for how sorry and stupid he felt. 

Shiro pulled away when Lance turned toward him.

No, he didn't deserve his attention.

Lance deserved the whole world, and Shiro was not fit enough to give it to him.

He felt the sting in his eyes, and willed them to go down. Shiro hated crying, and Lance didn't need to see that, how pathetic of a partner he was.

“I’m sorry,” his voice cracked. “I’m sorry, _I’m sorry!_ ”

Hands were on Shiro then, along his back and arms. No! Shiro yanked himself away. He didn’t deserve Lance touching him. Lance shouldn’t even be in the same room as him!

“Hey,” Lance said. “Shiro, stop it. Breathe for me.”

He tilted his head up, eyes burning as Lance met his gaze head on, leaning over Shiro from behind where he sat on the floor. He felt his throat choking on air.

“You’re okay. Stop wallowing in self-pity, it doesn’t look good on you.” His hands came up again, slower this time, smoothing them through Shiro’s hair. “But never touch me like that again. I’ll be gone, bond or no.”

Shiro nodded. That was an easy enough request. He’d never do that to anyone ever. He has never done that before, to anyone, and to grab his mate like that, something really was wrong with him.

“Yes, please, if I do again I clearly don’t deserve you, Lance.” Shiro tried to clean himself up. He could feel the steady throb of his heart and burn in his eyes.

There was a moment of silence, were Shiro tried to gasp in air and Lance moved from around him and towards the tub. It had finished draining, but he closed up the drain again and hot water started filling it once more.

Shiro glanced up at him, if only to take a peek at Lance’s face. “What are you doing?”

Lance was behind him again, touching his hair once more. Even though Lance had already done this, it felt too close. His legs were against Shiro's sides, feet squirming and toes pushing up under his butt.

It was too friendly and intimate.

“We clearly need to relax for a moment. So I’m making you a bath.”

His fingers were on one of Shiro’s arms then, lifting one up and this time was working at his shirt cuffs, opening the sleeves up.

Shiro’s face burned. What was he doing? Why was Lance touching him already?

Shiro’s eyes had wandered while following Lance’s hands, those beautiful hands, eyes still trying to adjust to the burn and tears, moving up to look at Lance's face.

Lance glanced down at him, meeting his gaze fully. He looked tired, disappointed in a way, and embarrassed.

He glanced away, face burning with shame. Shiro pulled his hands back, taking over as he struggled to open his shirt, running into problem after problem. How far should he unbutton his shirt? Was the third button too inappropriate? Was Lance really okay with this?

But he worked the shirt off over his head, knowing full well Lance wanted it gone. He didn’t want to admit it, but showing off to Lance like this made his hands grow weak like before, made his heart a little more steady, but also vulnerable and unsure. Shiro had touched Lance, felt him in such an intimate way. He should be touching Lance like that all the time. Gentle, soft, checking on him with only love and adoration intended in each movement.

“I’m sorry, Lance,” Shiro said. He would never stop saying it, even if Lance forgave him. Or did not forgive him.

“Hold on, just relax a moment.” Lance slipped his fingers along Shiro's hair for a moment before moving to check the water, allowing Shiro a minute to catch his breath and stand. He dropped the shirt to the floor, next to Lance’s suit, and stood there, watching the man’s back as he moved around.

Shiro caught how Lance’s eyes dragged down his frame when he glanced behind him, lingering at Shiro's chest, how he turned away quickly being caught in the movement. He hesitated if only for a moment, thinking about the scars on his body, but Lance was already looking away, moving to stand and get back in the tub.

Shiro paused, staring down at the floor next to the tub, absently rubbing at one of the scars on his side. He could feel the torn tissue, where his skin had struggled to heal everything. It was raised and a bit darker than some of his other scars. But all of them were hideous.

Lance’s voice suddenly came out strained, but loud. “I didn’t know you had those.”

Shiro tipped his head down, unsure what Lance was talking about.

The golden bars were bright against his skin, even more noticeable with the peaked hardness of his dark nipples. He generally would forget about them, but now his chest ached with a need to be touched.

He wished Lance hadn’t pointed them out, it only made them that much more sore and needy.

“Y-yeah, I got them when I was fifteen,” Shiro said. 

“When you presented?”

Shiro nodded slowly. It felt weird talking about that, but being open about it was the best option. They were for when he went into rut, it always helped when grinding, because he could always lean forward and rub his chest on something too. It felt so nice on his smooth sheets.

Lance was back in the water, regarding Shiro as he stood there. The air felt heavy. Too much for Shiro to take in. He wanted to be with Lance, but not until he gave the okay, not until he was comfortable.

But Lance’s eyes were wandering over him, regarding him. Shiro could see the thoughts racing behind them, face solid and expressionless as he did. It was unnerving, how fast his head was working and how strong of a mask he had.

Shiro shrunk into himself. He felt like Lance was picking at him, taking apart his being and deciding what he most disliked.

There was a lot, as account for all the marks on his skin, and the fake appendage of his right arm. Plus, now to add his terrible temper and impulsiveness.

Lance shifted, turning his head away. “Are you going to change, or get in the bath with pants?”

Shiro’s shoulders dropped, he couldn’t help it. He was upset over Lance’s soft, tired voice, and how he turned away so easily. This is not how his first moments, undressed in front of his mate, should be.

He struggled out of them a moment, stripping off his socks as he went and followed the movement of Lance’s body, how his arm draped over the side, fingertips running over the soft fabric of the towel he dropped earlier. And just like Shiro had, Lance gave him privacy, eyes slipping closed, allowing Shiro a moment as he moved close and stepped into the water.

It was hot, burning his skin for a few seconds, but he paused to let himself adjust to the heat. Shiro tried not to look, tried not to ogle at Lance, eyes closed and body open to him. He didn't dare stray his gaze.

Lance would give it to him when he was ready and Shiro deserved it.

He eased himself in the tub a few moments later, watching to see if the water would rise anymore from his added weight. Shiro was probably twice Lance's size, so it wasn't a surprise when the water tipped over the edge of the tub and spilled onto the tiles.

What did surprise him was Lance's lips tweaking into a faint smile. “You really are a big dude.” 

Shiro tried to keep the heat from going to his face. Yeah, he was, but Lance was nearly as tall, so Shiro struggled a moment with where to move his legs. Luckily Lance eased up, tilting his legs to one side of the tub to let Shiro relax a bit.

He didn't touch Lance though, but when Lance's toes brushed up against his thigh, he stiffened. At least the hot water was muddling his head, making it easier to dismiss those kinds of touches that sent sparks up his skin.

“Okay,” Lance said. “Are you ready to talk?”

Shiro nodded. He wanted to push all of this out of the room. The heat was stifling, but not nearly as much as the tension that surrounded Lance. He didn’t move much. Trying to keep as much attention away from himself as he could. Making himself a smaller target. 

Shiro hated it. Hated how Lance was trying to mold himself to that perfect, ideal omega standard when he clearly wasn’t. He was spirited, loud, eccentric. Lance was uncomfortable and that’s all Shiro needed to know to change something.

This should be easy. Lance should be the one person that he could open up to. But all this twisted his tongue. Shiro has always had trouble when talking about this type of thing. He figured having someone, like Lance, so easy to talk with and willing to listen, would break him of that.

It was the worst feeling. Not being able to speak to the one he most wanted to get to know. But it scared him. He was afraid of saying all the wrong things. Afraid of ending this as soon as it began. Shiro wanted Lance to stay, forever, if not all eternity. He was ready to make a fool of himself, to make Lance laugh and hear his gasps, but Shiro felt that pain in his shoulder thinking about sharing these thoughts that have plagued him for years. 

Glancing up at Lance, at his exhausted face, his eyes that drifted and watched the water shift, Shiro realized he promised. He would never break that, or do anything to hurt their marriage. He would never force Lance into this situation ever again.

“I,” Shiro breathed deep.

Lance’s eyes were immediately on him. Soft and searching as he gave all his attention to Shiro. His chest heaved seeing how fast Lance turned towards him.

His voice sounded too loud.

“I’m sorry, Lance. I didn’t expect to lose my cool like that.” Shiro huffed. “You somehow managed to drive me crazy.”

Nothing changed in Lance’s eyes as he said that.

A chill went up Shiro’s spine. This was a terrible idea. He should have said something else. Should have said anything than that. He was being so dumb. He should have started off at the beginning like any sane person would. 

Suddenly Lance’s head tilted the other way, eyes turning towards the edge of the tub.

“Here,” Lance said. He had leaned over the edge of the tub, bringing up that dark bar of soap from earlier and held it out to Shiro. “It’s natural, so it won’t leave a smell on me.”

Shiro stared. Was Lance really letting him do this?

He took it, reaching out and trying to hold back the tremble in his hand as he did. He didn’t let himself touch Lance’s fingers. Shiro wasn’t sure if he should.

But Lance made up his mind for him, arm still stretched out as he curled up his legs. “Talk as you do it. This should calm you down. I’ve seen alphas get like this before, it’s not uncommon. You’re feeling possessive because we’re new to each other.”

Lance smiled as Shiro’s fingers brushed over his wrist. His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest any moment.

“It’s worse that we were thrown right into it, though,” Lance went on. “You didn’t have the time before to claim me like you wanted, so you're trying to make up for all those months in one night. It’s common with things like this.”

They let the words hang there. It was obvious, the sudden union of the two forcing them to make up all that lost time.

“... Seems like you read a lot,” Shiro said. His voice felt too quiet then, unsteady compared to Lance’s.

“Yeah, I read a bit this past week. I wanted to be sure about some things.”

Shiro’s heart plummeted. Did he meet all those expectations in Lance’s book? Was he really another commonplace alpha?

He finally moved then after the silence became too much, trying to break it as it clawed through his chest. Shiro's body felt cold, despite the warm water. 

He reached out, letting his shaky fingers roam over the soft, delicate skin of Lance’s wrist, heartbeat strong against his thumb as he ran slow circles there. Shiro wasn’t sure if he should use his right arm to hold Lance’s wrist. He didn’t know if Lance would appreciate the hard texture on his skin. 

But he did and kept his gaze down, not daring to look up and meet Lance’s. He didn’t want to see what could flash behind his eyes.

Luckily Lance stayed still, hand limp in Shiro’s grasp. He let himself breathe out then.

Shiro watched his own hand move, piecing together his roaming thoughts as he rubbed soap over a small section of Lance’s arm then wet his fingers. The soap lathered as he gently ran his hand around soft, warm skin, circling the spot for a while before moving his hand over a wider area.

Shiro let his hands wander, breathing in Lance's musk and the soft scent of the soap he was using. It wasn’t overwhelming like he said, and he loved it. Lance finally smelled like himself. So Shiro breathed in, to let his head clear and let his body relax. He finally had a moment of clarity ever since he walked into this room.

He repeated the motions, again and again, getting lost in the action as he brought Lance’s arm closer to him. Shiro worked over Lance’s forearm, then the soft dip of his elbow, and then further. Till he paused, gold lines and dots suddenly in view on the roll of a freckled shoulder.

Shiro hesitated a moment more before running his fingers back over the soap and then the markings. He watched the paint smear a bit under the friction before fading slowly as he rubbed, a light shimmer covering Lance’s skin. His stomach turned over and over. It broke him seeing those lines disappear, seeing their connection washed away so easily, but there was an odd sensation that filled him too. He couldn’t place it though. 

Shiro dipped his hand in the water before bringing it back up to smooth over his skin and clean away as much of the residue as he could. 

The feeling was there again, blooming low in his chest.

He was helping, if only a little. He was taking care of his mate.

Shiro let his hand smooth once more over Lance’s shoulder, gaze lingering on a slowly forming bruise at the dip in his neck before he growled. It was soft, asking for his other hand.

Lance laughed. It was quiet, barely anything, but it was an honest show of amusement. He shifted and handed over his other arm. “Are you going to talk?”

Shiro nodded, but he wanted to do this for a little longer. Lance was right. His head had cleared up significantly by giving him this job, not so muddied with the need to scent and reclaim Lance. His body wasn’t moving without his say. Now he could feel where his hands were, no longer numb and acting on their own. 

It was relaxing. 

Being able to finally smell Lance again without it blocking out his control over every vital system in his brain did wonders.

He could finally feel the warmth of the water on his toes. They ached, cold from all the shifting heat in him. Shiro let himself take in another breath.

He dreaded this, but at the same time, he wanted all the weight gone. It felt like his ribs were being crushed from it, and the longer he waited, the further Lance drifted away. Lance needed this, he needed to know the reason and deserved it.

Lance wanted someone who would take care of him and Shiro needed to earn it back. He had been so foolish acting like that. 

“You know,” Lance voice suddenly cut through all the fog that was settling over him. “I like your hands. They’re surprisingly gentle.”

Shiro ogled at the fond smile Lance had on his face. It was gorgeous. Blue eyes downcast and watching Shiro’s hands that had become still at his elbow. His long lashes fluttered as he blinked, kissing his cheeks and the freckles there.

“I wasn’t expecting that.” Lance looked up at him then.

Shiro wanted to be swallowed whole at that moment. Lance’s eyes were bright, intoxicating, drawing Shiro in as he took his arm back. The corner of his mouth quirked a bit more in his smile and Shiro felt his heart melt into the bottom of his chest. His body was runny, heat dripping off his skin and into the water.

Oh, what a hold Lance had on him.

“I’ve always been like that, I guess,” Shiro said. He handed the soap over to Lance, admitting to his shaking hand as Lance took it from him, gaze once again flicking up to him in amusement at the sight. “I was raised to be nothing but.”

“You mean, you were raised to be kind to your omega?” Lance’s head tilted to the side.

“Yes, of course.” Why was Lance digging into this? “But not only them, to everyone else as well. People should be respected, no matter what they present as.”

“So… you wouldn’t care about what I was, then,” Lance asked. “If I ever do show.”

Shiro watched him. Lance had crawled back into himself, eyes dark as before and blocking him out.

He would never force Lance out of it, despite how frustrating it was seeing him wall himself up behind his hard shell. Besides, Shiro had no right to call him out on it, he had done the same.

“Yes, of course,” Shiro said. He wanted to reach out and comfort Lance, wanted to put him at ease. “I'll be with you no matter what.”

The look Lance gave him only made his heart still. He was desperate. “But that’s out of arrangement. Would you honestly ever keep me if I never presented?”

Shiro bristled. He felt his hackles rise and his teeth clenched trying to bite back the onslaught of affection that rose up. He desperately wanted to touch Lance and comfort him in some way sensing the distress from him. But… could Lance really see nothing? 

“Why would you say that?” Shiro’s voice was harsher than he wanted it to be, but he couldn’t help it. Lance was pressing every button he could.

“Because of the way you act! Every chance you got, you pushed me away,” Lance said. “It makes me feel undesirable. It’s… like every time you get a taste of me it’s not enough, like you don’t want it. You go with it only long enough till it’s not satisfying anymore. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

Shiro watched him a moment. He wasn’t the only one plagued by that self-hate and destructive behavior. Anybody could see it all over Lance, written across his face and clear enough to be blinding. He wondered how long Lance had felt like this. Having to wait on his endotype before figuring out what to do with the remainder of his life. It was hard to think about it, how presenting changes someone so much, how much it affected their future.

He stared at the water. Shiro hated this, hated how Lance was one of those who had to wait before finding their place in life. It was an unfair structure, and Shiro grimaced at how traditional everything was, how he had to marry an omega to appease his clan. He should be able to marry anyone, the same as with Lance.

Shiro wouldn’t have chosen anyone differently though, and he was glad Lance was the one who picked him, who willingly wanted to be with him. It warmed his body. But the fact Lance didn’t have much of a choice either, or rather, he was the first one that was asked. All because he was expected to present as an omega.

And then there were the darker sides to it. He knew how stuck the system was, how pure an omega should be when mated. It was an unrealistic standard. But he saw it a lot when growing up.

He figured the reason they asked Lance was _because_ of his lack of presentation, that being so close and intimate with an alpha could trigger it somehow. Since he had yet to show, it somehow made sense to them that he was clean and untainted, so Shiro would be the only one ever to touch that side of him.

Looking at Lance, Shiro didn’t think he was necessarily pure by any standards. How could anyone keep their hands off such a gorgeous man? He actually didn’t mind thinking about that either. For some reason he found it endearing knowing Lance had someone before this, and now was with Shiro, had chosen to be with him.

Shiro watched Lance a moment longer. There was no reason for him to feel like this, as if he wasn't worthy of it or didn't fit in with the archaic system. That was all it was, outdated and irrelevant.

“Lance,” Shiro spoke up. “I think the reason you’re feeling like this is because of how I’m reacting to myself.”

Lance snapped his head up, brows furrowed and confusion swarming his face.

Shiro gave a small little smile. “I’m not… particularly fond of some parts of myself.” He raised his hand out of the water a bit.

He hated calling attention to himself, hated showing himself off so blatantly to Lance like this. His scars felt disgusting, webbing over his skin and dark, so noticeable and easy to point out. His heart drummed in his ears, filling his chest over and over with a heavy rush of anxiety. It never stopped, not in public. His heart only stilled in the confines of his room and the buzz of thoughts mellowed only when his eyes closed to sleep.

Shiro feared what Lance would say, gaze stuck on him, seeing him as not completely whole or perfect. He didn’t want to have Lance’s attention on him like that, but he had to. He had to get this out in the open.

None of this was Lance’s fault, it would never be. Lance was stuck with a pretentious man who pitied himself. Lance didn’t need that in his life.

“I don’t think I ever will be okay with it,” he said. “It’s been years since my accident and I won’t recover from it fully. So if I push you away, it’s not me thinking, I’m just acting out of habit.”

The way Lance looked at him then, Shiro really did feel like he was finally swallowed whole. His breath caught in his throat, trying to take in the way Lance’s eyes softened. They were warm and thoughtful, all the cold harshness of the color there was gone. It ebbed into Shiro’s skin, along his veins and nerves, alighting his skin in a different wave of heat. It surrounded him, had a little weight, but the heat was intense, loosening up the knot that had formed in his stomach talking about this.

Shiro shook his head. “You’re not undesirable, not by a long shot, Lance. I… I’m-”

Suddenly Lance was cooing, feeling where Shiro’s thoughts were straying. He was glad Lance stopped him, glad he knew what Shiro was going to say. Lance had already found a way to read him, and he was thankful for it.

Lance could give him comfort, before he could spiral back into that dark pit where he had been earlier that night.

He didn’t expect Lance to get so close though, hand coming up to touch Shiro’s face and offer the soft inside of his wrist for him to scent and draw some comfort.

And he breathed in greedily. He let his head fog up over with it again, not nearly as deep as before, but enough to create a small buzz and relax his muscles. Shiro let himself slump back against the tub, letting go of Lance’s hand, but it stayed close and long fingers carded through his hair moments later.

They stayed there like that, Lance pressing closer than he had before. Shiro had to curl up one of his legs to accommodate Lance, letting him lean against his knee. Shiro indulged in the touch, feeling the man shift and the smooth skin of his side warming up his leg. It was unbelievably hot after a while, but Shiro did not care, letting his eyes slip shut. He'd love to be burned up in this inferno.

“I never expected to end up with someone like you,” Shiro went on. “Anyone, actually. I didn't think anybody would want to, seeing me, like this. I didn't know how to do things for a while, if took me a year to write again like how I used to, but it's still not the same.”

He could feel Lance watching him, but didn't dare look. The blackness in his head calmed him a bit, but feeling Lance's thumb, soothing circles over his knee, helped out more than he could ever explain.

“I was surprised they even considered me part of the clan, asking me to claim you, to have you. But it all kind of came back suddenly, I…” 

Shiro's voice dropped, quiet and low. He hated where his mind was going, but if this was going to fix it, then he would say it all. “I didn't want to get out of bed this morning. I thought you would leave once you saw me, saw the scar on my face, and my hand. Then tonight, you'd see more of me. I thought ‘for sure, this was where he would leave me’, but you didn't, so I got worried the further things got. It ate at me, so that's why I pushed you away, because I thought those were the moment where you would leave. I felt like filth touching you, I didn't feel like I deserve you.”

Shiro breathed in a moment, letting the last of it leave his chest.

“At some point, I had thought about it, what it would be like if I hadn't gone on that last campaign. But I had, and I fell into the feeling seeing how much of a burden I was to others, a grown man having to teach himself again. At one point I remember saying to myself 'maybe if I died, everything would be better for them'.”

Lance shifted then, noise coming out of his chest. There was a hand on Shiro's face, wet and warm. Shiro jumped, but let Lance run and tangle his fingers through messy hair.

“At the time, it seemed easier, and that was only a year ago, maybe less,” Shiro breathed into Lance's wrist.

He finally peaked an eye open, catching Lance's face. It was a mix of all emotions, but the ones that stuck were fear, shame, and something desperate.

“That's why I know none of this is your fault. It's because you're having to deal with all of my mess and having to baby me.”

Shiro smiled weakly at him, trying to lighten the mood, but Lance wasn't having it.

“Shiro, don’t take all the blame,” Lance said.

“But it's my fault, all of it!”

“No it's not,” Lance snapped. “I believe you, saying that you felt as if I was going to leave, but if I was, you wouldn't have seen me down the aisle.”

Shiro stared at Lance, watching his mouth move as he talked, making sure he was hearing the words.

Lance was so assertive with his hands, is was impossible to miss anyway.

“I have my own problems, Shiro,” Lance went on. “Because of my presentation, I felt like no one wanted me either. But everything you did made me feel so unbelievably special, like I was the damn world to you, like nothing else mattered, like my presentation didn't matter. The words you said, they were wonderful and put me at ease, but the way you move and reacted. It _hurt_.”

Shiro pressed his head into Lance's, seeing the tears build up behind his eyes. He wished he could do more to appease his husband, wanted to do a little more than sit there and worry over his own feelings.

“You say such beautiful things,” Lance said. “But you're shit with body movements. Stop fumbling so much and just touch me. I'm not going to back away.”

Shiro watched him, trying to keep back a smile that spread. They were both so stupid, so blind toward the other. All they needed to do was talk.

He took in a shaky breath, pressing up closer to Lance. “So… we had a misunderstanding?”

Lance laughed, shy, but genuine all the same. “Yes, a big one.”

“You okay?”

Lance nodded, wiping the tears from his face. The gold smeared a bit and Lance huffed seeing it, dropping his hands in defeat back into the water.

“Sorry… But I should be asking you that. Are you okay, Shiro?”

He nodded, feeling how Lance was pressing closer to him. “I feel much better, yes.”

Lance didn't seem all that sure, looking up at him and eyes roaming over Shiro's face.

“Do you want to talk about anything?”

Shiro shook his head. For once, he felt calm, content as he leaned back in the tub. There was someone here that liked him, genuinely. They shared a part of themselves with him, and also listened to everything Shiro said.

He couldn't ask for anything more. And with the way Lance had no hesitation to his hands, did not waver as he touched Shiro's skin or look over him, had his heart thumping hard and heavy in his chest.

“Can I hug you,” Lance asked suddenly.

Shiro stilled his breathing, feeling Lance's hands over his wrists, both of them. He hovered, close and partially out of the water as he waited.

Shiro felt his chest swell all that much more, full of adoration and love for this man. It was an unending wave, and he was going to drown in it one day.

“Yes.”

There was a tug on his arm, fingers wrapping around the smooth metal of his bicep, and Lance pulled him those last few inches to press against his chest.

Shiro felt the steady ache grow, engulfing his body feeling where Lance grabbed onto him, without any hesitation. He was here and sure about what he was doing. Lance wasn’t afraid of him, didn’t shy away from his scars. So he didn't wait to wrap his arms tight around Lance's body, face pressing into the curve of his neck and shoulder. It was soft and warm and inviting.

He finally breathed, took in a long drag of air like he needed and let some of his body relax. It had hurt, being so tense the whole time. His body hurt to move, but there was no way he was going to let go of Lance and let this hug slip through his fingers so easily.

He smoothed his fingers through Lance’s hair, reveling in the softness and the way the short strands twisted. Damp hair so easy to curl and shape.

It was difficult when Lance leaned back, hand coming up again to brush through Shiro’s damp hair. He must enjoy touching it, despite being a mess, tangling and catching on his fingers.

They shared a smile, Lance pulling his hand away from Shiro's hair. The look he gave Shiro was filled with many questions, but he relented, asking only one.

“Can I kiss you, too?”

“Always.” Shiro didn't hesitate a moment hearing those words.

Lance pulled himself forward, now over Shiro and pressing close. He looked hesitant, not knowing where to put his hands, but Shiro guided him, desperate to have this attention, the affection on his body again.

He rested Lance's hands behind his head on the tub, moved his fingers to curl over the edge. 

Shiro didn't dare move, not with the way Lance's front was pressed up against his side, thighs against his own leg and hip.

He arched up though, feeling a hand move to touch his face, right over a marking there on his cheek. The paint must be ruined, smeared and leaving shimmery gold all over his skin.

Lance's mouth was soft when he finally kissed Shiro. One slow movement of their lips, hot from the bath as it warmed their skin. Shiro could feel the cold air of the bathroom on his shoulders, but when reaching to touch Lance, his hand instantly burned. Lance was alight, mouth parting at the touch of cold metal on his skin, a soft noise escaping past his lips with the motion.

Shiro touched his spine, let his hands move up to touch his shoulders. The freckles there, they were gorgeous and Shiro knew he had to memorize and kiss every single one of them a thousand times before he no longer could. But if a thousand was when Lance would leave him, Shiro would raise that number higher and higher.

Lance gasped suddenly into his mouth, parting his lips and letting teeth come out to play, scrapping over Shiro's bottom lip.

He didn't dare hide his groan, and felt Lance's laugh in his mouth, and then a tongue, chasing after Shiro's sounds and willing more to rise to the surface. Lance coaxed and licked his way along teeth, tilting his head to press in deeper and gather up all of the sounds between them, swallowing them down one by one.

His teeth bared again, making Shiro laugh around a rumble in his chest, and Lance answered back, playful and deep, a chuckle coming up behind it and their teeth clacked together before lips smoothed it over. 

Shiro wanted to laugh, feeling how Lance was deep in this, literally trying to devour him whole.

It was Shiro who had tried to do that first, but now Lance has him near drowning, pushing him down in the water till he felt water at his ears and hair.

Lance pulled back smiling at him. “Can I wash the marks off you?”

There was gold smeared over both of Lance's lips now.

“Of course,” Shiro laughed.

He anxiously waited for Lance's hands, one on the back of his head to tip back, and the other supporting himself up. Shiro gripped the edge of the tub, bending to let his hair submerge. He closed his eyes, tilting back further, up to his nose and mouth.

Then there was a touch, light and gentle on his chin, a kiss that followed the mark along his neck and down to where it ended at his adams apple.

He nearly choked on water coming back up. The touch had tickled, and a bit of water burned as it went up his nose when it surprised him.

Lance was there though, cooing softly and pushing Shiro's wet hair out of the way. 

He kept his eyes closed, feeling the water stream down his face, but also Lance's fingers on his face. Shiro felt the cool, silky touch of the soap, and how it foamed gently when Lance rubbed.

Shiro got lost in the movements, feeling how Lance went in little circles, clearing up every bit of it from his skin.

When it came to his lip, Lance was careful, until he started kissing Shiro again with closed mouth pecks.

“I thought you were trying to get the gold off me,” Shiro remarked. “Not to smear more on.”

“I can do whatever I want, Takashi. Isn't that right?”

Shiro hummed, contemplating his options. But what was there really to think about? Lance could have his way with Shiro anytime.

“So I get to have your hands on me more often? Sounds perfect.” 

Lance laughed before getting Shiro to wash his face off, leaning forward this time. Again, he scrubbed at Shiro's skin, washing away the last bit of gold from his skin as best he could.

Lance handed him a small towel to dry his face off with. It came away with little shimmers of gold.

“If you haven't noticed yet,” Lance perked up. “We're going to have gold on our bodies for weeks.”

Shiro looked down into the water. It was clear still, but it shimmered with unseen little gold flakes, sticking to their skin and the walls of the tub. Anything actually. It was probably in his hair.

Glancing up at Lance, he could see the bubbly smile that was spread on his lips. He was covered in a thin sheen of gold, skin shimmering with every turn.

“Our bed is going to be covered,” Lance laughed.

 _Ours._ It was no longer only Shiro's bed. It was _their's_. He was sharing it with someone, a person who loved him dearly.

His eyes lowered. _Love?_ Did Lance actually love him yet?

“Are you going to clean my face off,” Lance suddenly asked. “Or are you going to keep staring at the water?”

Shiro looked up at him, seeing the messy, but loving marks he had put there. They framed Lance’s eyes, brought out the color of his skin and hair. He smiled, pushing forward to suddenly get into Lance’s space.

“Are you going to tip back,” Shiro breathed. “Or forward?”

“B-back,” Lance stuttered.

It took them a moment, Shiro pulling Lance along to help sit back in the tub. His legs came up out of the water suddenly when he slipped, and Shiro didn’t dare let his eyes roam too far. Oh, he looked, but he didn’t stare as Lance leaned back.

Shiro let his hands wander for a moment, breathing in Lance's musk and the soft scent of the soap. Lance smelled fantastic. It was clear and lovely, warming Shiro up slowly as he moved to get closer to Lance. 

He let his hand move down over long thighs, balancing Lance as he shifted to sit back more. A little smile followed Shiro, how his eyes roamed over Lance with nothing but love and want. When his knees peeked out of the water again, Shiro kissed them. 

And Lance giggled. An honest giggle that warmed Shiro’s core and sent a growl through his chest. Shiro adored this man.

Then his calves and ankles showed, trying to find the best position to rest them at, until he gave up and set his ankles on the edge of the tub. Shiro kissed the tops of those cute feet too, toes curling and then flexing as he watched Shiro. He twisted the ring playfully on Lance’s little toe as he did so.

Shiro had no idea how to proceed, if this was too far or not enough. He didn’t know where to put his hands, how to sit, or how close to get to Lance.

But he was forced to, when Lance dipped his head back slightly.

“Grab the edge of the tub, baby,” Shiro said. “I got you.”

Lance let out a shuddering breath with his smile. 

But with Shiro’s firm hand behind his neck, and the other supporting himself over Lance, he finally tipped back.

Shiro watched him, saw the bubbles that came up, his hair drifting a bit in the water. He was ethereal there, with his mouth slightly open, his face relaxed and easy. Air bubbles clung to his lashes and hair, following the curve of his cheeks and jaw on their trek to the surface. 

He breathed deep, taking in Lance’s smell through his mouth to taste as he leaned in, before pressing a kiss to that bare chest presented to him. 

Lance came up only a moment later, flipping his head forward and covering Shiro in water again, the movement sending more onto the floor. He laughed but then cooed as soon as he heard Lance sputter. 

Shiro gripped the back of Lance's neck, pulling him forward as his legs came down.

He held Lance’s face, wiping the water from his eyes. The man smiled, leaning into his touch for a moment before Shiro started rubbing in slow motions along his cheeks. The gold smeared and he breathed in.

Again, it felt like something was breaking in Shiro's chest, but other things were sprouting in its place.

He picked up the bar of soap again, rolling his fingertips along it before pressing on Lance’s skin. It washed away easier this time, but his lip was hard to get clean, what with Shiro pressing loving after needy kiss to Lance’s mouth.

"I thought you didn't want any gold smeared on you," Lance remarked. Shiro laughed, leaving that question open.

He handed Lance a towel once finished, watching how he first dried his face, but then rubbed at his hair. There was no point trying to keep the gold off them, it was already everywhere.

But Shiro’s skin felt smooth, soft from soaking in it, and Lance’s felt the same when he reached for him, gripping his chin to give him another slow kiss once his face showed from behind the towel.

“Ready to get out,” Shiro asked.

Lance nodded, but stayed close to Shiro, even following as he stood to step out.

He immediately shivered and turned to Lance who was doing the same, jaw clenched as he wrapped the towel around himself desperately.

Shiro smiled, feeling how Lance pressed up close behind him to steal some of his warmth. This was what he wanted, craved. His heart was picking up again, feeling his husband so close to him, even if Lance was mooching off him.

Shiro spun around and Lance squeaked, eyes growing wide when Shiro wrapped his own towel around his waist and thighs, and lifted him up.

“Shiro! What,” Lance gasped. 

“You looked cold, and I can’t have that,” Shiro said. “Where did you put your things?”

“On the counter, where else?” 

Lance was annoyed, but smiled, beaming down at him as Shiro carried him across the short distance. He set Lance down on his feet, snatching the sweatpants he had grabbed from the closet in the fit of anger earlier that night. It was one of Shiro’s favorites, lined in fleece and patterned with cats.

“Shiro, I can put my own pants on myself,” Lance yelped, refusing how Shiro held them out for him to step into. “Now go find some yourself, you animal!”

He tossed a towel at Shiro, but his face was tinted with color, eyes bright as he turned away.

Shiro rushed off to get his own pair, tearing through his room to get to the closet and dig through his pair of sleep shirts and pants. He settled on the usual white shirt and grey sweats, foregoing underwear since Lance was as well.

The thought has his heart hammering all that much more heavy in his chest, and when he came out, Lance was already there, picking up their earlier discarded clothes.

Shiro froze for a moment.

Lance had no right to look like that, all innocent as he picked up Shiro’s suit jacket. His shirt loosely tucked into the band of his sweats, pants hems rolled up to rest over his bare feet. Lance managed to look clean and relaxed without so much as a thought.

It tugged at his heart too, seeing Lance in his clothes. And the way the pants rested on his hips? Shiro wanted to make a noise. It was unethical, immoral, too damn sexy for this world. Shiro couldn’t stop the trail of his eyes when Lance cocked his hip. The man needed to put some underwear on. Both of them did.

But he surged forward, taking Lance’s face up in a kiss as soon as Shiro was in his space.

There was no hesitation this time, Lance’s mouth falling open easily for Shiro, tongue slipping along the one that pressed, greeting him with a little noise.

He growled back, low in his chest, vibrating with all the energy there that had been pent up for hours.

And Lance answered back, if not a little excited as he purred.

They pulled back, but Lance was right back in his space, nuzzling along his chest and neck, pulling Shiro forward to climb into bed with him, forgetting about picking up the room. Shiro struggled to keep his hands to himself, but Lance wasn't, he was having a field day searching all over Shiro's back and chest.

He even went so much as to touch Shiro's pierced nipples.

“I like these,” Lance cooed to him, a little more than a healthy blush on his face.

And Shiro's body erupted with that, heat curling through every inch of his body.

Oh, what a talkative man he had. Lance would say anything that was on his mind.

They laid there a moment, noses brushing along jaws, lips kissing shoulders and necks. Shiro figured out how easy it was to slip aside the collar of Lance’s shirt, pressing heated, chaste kisses to his exposed skin there. But after a while, Lance turned into his pillows, nuzzling close in an attempt to wrap his legs up with Shiro’s.

And he didn't fight it, happily turning onto his back a bit so Lance could get closer.

“Thank you, Shiro,” Lance mumbled into his sheets.

“For what?”

“For being honest with me,” Lance said. He turned his head, peering at Shiro in the dark. He caught the glint of them, blue vibrant in the dark. “You could have said anything you wanted, but you told me the truth, so thank you.”

“Thank you for giving me another chance, though,” Shiro whispered back.

“You’re worth another one.”

Lance smiled up at him, fingers touching along Shiro’s chest, before he pushed close and finally closed his eyes.

Shiro listened to his breathing for a while, felt the moments when Lance drifted off to sleep, breaths becoming deep and heavy.

He stared at the far wall past Lance's shoulder, seeing how the world seemed a little brighter, and how he could make out some things on his desk.

Lance had got his wish. He drifted already, but the sun was peeking up over the horizon, filling the room with a warming glow as Shiro pressed close. 

Shiro kissed Lance’s hair, smoothing back Lance's curls. It was still damp, so he pulled the blankets up closer around them.

Lance had them up all night, and Shiro enjoyed it. He loved how his energy lasted even when he clearly needed the rest. And it stuck to him, kept Shiro up well into the morning, watching the man next to him sleep for a while longer, because he wanted to, needed to memorize Lance, adore him for a bit longer.

Shiro still felt as if Lance was going to slip through his fingers, but he would tell him tomorrow, when they had more time to talk, when Lance wasn't so exhausted. And Shiro needed to sleep too. So he let his brain rest, let himself press a little more into Lance and felt him shift, moving with Shiro to get rid of that little inch of space between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are welcome and make my day, so don't hesitate to write what you think! I love the input :3


	5. Anniversary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a whole year since their wedding, and Shiro's ready to spend the day alone with Lance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait but here is a new chapter! Thank you all for keeping up with my story and loving these two as much as I have!!

Shiro got a moan in return from shifting, having been bitten into the pillows and low in sound. He smiled at that, kissing sunkissed skin so close to his face. Lance was making such lovely sounds and his body was still warm from their weekend, having spent most of it taking one last look at all the houses along the beachfront. But they had found one nearly a month ago.

Lance moved, shoving Shiro off as he finally pulled his shirt off over his head, hands shaking slightly with the motion. Another ragged moan tore out of his throat, loud and hoarse as he nearly fell face first into the sheets from being pushed over by a needy mouth and teeth.

Shiro scrapped his canines over Lance’s exposed skin, laving at it like before as he ground forward, pushing the air out of Lance in one loud huff

“Shiro, stop teasing already,” Lance careened. “You ass.”

He chuckled, pressing another kiss to Lance’s hair. This man was always so demanding, but gentle and playful with his smile and eyes. Shiro was too lucky.

Again, he ground his hips forward and got a yelp that time, muscles clenching tight around him desperately from the rough treatment, body under him shuddering and bowing back against him. He grabbed on tight, feeling how Lance struggled with himself, impossibly tight but wanting more all the same.

Again, he pressed forward, a little less than nice. Shiro wanted to hear his sounds, that beautiful voice filling up their room.

“S~top,” Lance whined. His hand came back to grab onto any part of Shiro, nails scratching in a half attempt to reign him in.

Shiro loved those hands, kissing the knuckles of a stray one as it floundered in the air, searching for him. He snatching up Lance's wrist, nuzzling in the open palm and licking long, nimble fingers as they flexed and cupped his chin. Shiro heard a breathy laugh followed by a choked coo. Lance was more than he could have asked for. So he relented, giving in so easily to his love, hips moving a little more insistently to the point where Lance melted into the bed and his sounds were a constant thrum through Shiro’s body.

Lance was twitching and twisting under him then, eyes opening and head turned to look at the clock on the bedside table.

What was he doing? Shiro groaned and rubbed at Lance’s shoulder, demanding his attention back, pressing his body down into Lance to get him to spread out and form against the obvious weight at his back. He left kisses along Lance's back, nipping at the little constellations of marks that covered his skin, tracing them with his lips and breathing against his warm muscle. Lance tasted divine like this, the feel of him resting heavy in Shiro's stomach and curling heat through his body.

“Fuck,” Lance huffed. 

He went silent after that, feeling how Shiro rubbed that unyielding ring along the nerves in Lance’s body, trembling at the touch. Shiro watched how he went lax, legs spreading further and hips pressing back to meet Shiro, mouth open as he took every desperate thrust. He didn't stay quiet for long, shifting to lift up on his arms and shoving back harshly into Shiro.

" _Fuck_ , baby, hurry up,” he breathed out. “We have to~ _ooh_ … get ready soon.”

Shiro pressed his eyebrows together as he pulled Lance flush back against him in one smooth slide, trying to gather his thoughts as he pressed his knot into the full ass against his hips. He shuddered, moan coming out louder than he intended with the way Lance tightened up, surprised but purring into the action. Shiro breathed, trying to clear some of his thoughts to something not dripping with _Lance_. This was not a good time to try and _think_ , not with how Lance rocked back slow and steady, dragging himself off Shiro in several, unbearably teasing, shameless, enticing rolls of the hip. Lance lounged, leaning forward and presenting himself, waiting for Shiro to go on. 

Shiro couldn't decide if he wanted to yank Lance back against his body, or try to figure out some of the whisps of thoughts in his head. It was hard, with how his knot throbbed and ached for the stretched and gaping hole, his beautiful, smiling husband wrapped up all pretty in the sheets before him. Shiro growled. He shouldn't have to make this choice, but clearly Lance wasn't kidding around. He was already turning over, locking his legs around Shiro's waist to yank him forward. Shiro nearly fell onto him.

Lance hummed, running his fingertips up Shiro's stomach, watching how it bunched and tensed when brushing through the dark curls around his cock and up to his bellybutton.

“Did you forget?” Lance glanced up at him, still continuing his little search over Shiro's body. As if he needed to. Lance had already traveled his body a hundred times. It's been a wonderful year.

“Hmm,” Shiro groaned. He was a little more than distracted with Lance's hands and the hard pearled ring smoothing over his nipple.

Lance was making him lose it all over again, but now his grip on reality was much stronger. His grip on _Lance_ was stronger. There was no one else Shiro was more willing to please and pamper.

“You know,” Lance went on, laying back into the sheets as Shiro bent over him. “We're supposed to see your father today, they told us yesterday.”

Shiro paused, hands on Lance's waist and feeling him arch into the movement, stomach dipping with each breath as he planted kiss after tender kiss along warm skin.

He didn't remember that. The one thing he was more than capable to remember and it was lost to him, like so many other things recently. The stress was getting to him. They had only finally packed their last box, with a few exceptions, ready to move out to their new place tomorrow. Shiro wanted to spend some time with Lance in this place, one last memory, before they began their lives in their wonderful, window filled home. Where the sunlight would hit Lance at every angle, and they could go out and swim whenever they wanted, track sand in late at night from the beach when wrapped up in each other. 

“That’s tomorrow, babe,” Shiro breathed. 

Lance was never wrong, but for once, he had to be. Their last day Shiro had planned around a whole evening off with his mate. A final goodbye to their wonderfully cramped and small room. A year there had been too long, but he loved the closeness, the wonderful warm feeling he got when looking up from his desk to watch Lance sleep in their bed, arms up over the pillows and hair a mess of cowlicks and curls. Shiro smiled every damn time. But now, he tried to steer it back. This was one thing he wouldn't give up. Lance couldn't have this one! They had planned that for tomorrow before they left.

“No, that’s today, they told us yesterday that he wanted to see us,” Lance breathed. “He knew we would be rushed tomorrow.”

His hands came up to touch Shiro's chin.“We’re supposed to be there in less than an hour.”

Fuck.

Shiro growled, pressing forward to finally smash a kiss to Lance's mouth. He had taken way too long of a break from those wickedly coy lips, stretched into a smile. Lance's brows raised with the kiss, hum in the back of his throat.

“Looks like you have some work to do then,” Lance panted against Shiro's mouth. His tongue peeked out to lick the mess he had made, spit along the crease of Shiro's mouth. “Because I'm not going like this.”

Shiro gazed down at him a moment longer, tracing the curve of Lance's smile, the way his eyes half closed with his playful attitude.

“You planned this, didn't you?”

“No! Why would I put us in this wonderful predicament,” Lance chuckled. “I think… the world is just maniacal that way.”

“You're maniacal,” Shiro huffed. “You always manage to get us into a tight spot.”

“Hush, you look good in tight things,” Lance laughed, hands coming up to smooth along Shiro's neck. Lance must feel the anxiety growing from him. “So, what do you want to do? We have forty minutes.”

Shiro wanted to do so many things, all revolving around his own dick, which was rubbing along between Lance's legs. He wanted to fuck Lance into oblivion again, make the man see stars and cry out into the world with how Shiro tormented him, cock pressing up against wonderful spots, but not the one he ached for. He wanted to bite and mark, lay claim to the expanse of Lance's chest, to his thighs and hips. Shiro wanted to leave beautiful patchworks of indentations and bruises. There were so many things, but, he felt the steady pressure on them both. Time pushing them to the edge with each tick, forcing them over even if they didn't finish. 

His body shuddered, trying to calm himself. Oh, he wanted to do some wonderful things. But instead, let his hand sneak down to grip the both of them. Lance gasped, trying to gather himself up from having melted into the bed when Shiro rolled his hips forward, hand smoothed along their lengths.

“I was planning on knotting you,” Shiro mumbled. 

Lance's eyes snapped up to him, mouth still parted as he reached down to help, lithe fingers curling around heated, sensitive flesh. There was so much desire in that look, plain and simple want as Lance tilted his head back to moan, deep and musical. Shiro shivered hearing him, seeing his adams apple bob, eyes fluttering closed as Shiro kept up his pace.

It would have been the first time to knot him. Shiro's knot had flared a few times before, but not as intense as this one. It felt right, rocking his knot against that tight hole, his stomach aching to be locked with Lance finally. He wondered how Lance would act, since he was so animated and moved constantly. Shiro loved the idea, Lance accidentally twisting a certain way to pull on their connection, mouth parted as he took everything, telling Shiro how it feels. He wanted to see the way Lance's lashes fluttering, how he smiled when finally pulling off, unable to hold everything in and cum coloring the back of his thighs as he laid there, overstimulated and shaking.

Lance's smile was brilliant when he finally looked back up at Shiro. A whole other life and world spinning through his head, right on the other side. They were so close to it, to carving out their own lives, living under their own roof, doing what they want. Now they could travel, sleep in as much as they wanted, stay out late and go dancing. There was a lovely town nearby, always filled with music. Or they could stay home, arms wrapped around each other as they slowly swayed.

“Y-yeah?” Lance's eyes were bright. “What about when we get back, later tonight? You can do all you want before we leave tomorrow. Does that sound fair?”

Shiro felt his body light up at the idea, working Lance over into sunrise and letting him sleep on the way there. He would look beautiful cumming under the light of dawn, slipping in through their windows and covering the pair in a warm glow.

Lance moaned then, lost for a moment in Shiro's movements, tenor coming out higher than usual and thighs tightening around Shiro's waist. He panted, head tilting back as Shiro ran his thumb over Lance's slit, knot pressing firm against the man's cock as Shiro rolled his hips forward again.

“ _Mhh_ , m-aybe in the car too,” Lance continued, breathing a little less easily. “We can stop along the way… Even on the beach, right when we get there.”

Shiro laughed. Lance was phenomenal. He was already planning their first time in the new house before Shiro could even have him there as a send off. And so willing too, with the way his eyes stared into Shiro, lips parted as he breathed deep. His eyes shone behind the cloud of desperation then.

“Hmm, I would love to see you covered in sand,” Shiro said. “Maybe it's not so good for the carpet but I can spend however long I want with you, I wouldn't mind that at all, and the ocean's right there too, you can listen to the water as I fuck you. Your moans will sound so pretty there."

Lance was purring, lidded eyes roaming over him as Shiro went on.

"And that cot, I can knot you there if you want. Midday when it's warm and the birds are out, the sun filtering through the trees.”

Lance continued with his gaze, eyes thoughtful as he smoothed a hand along Shiro's jaw and chin, his content purr loud and unbridled. Shiro could tell he wanted that, by the way his thoughts drifted in his eyes, the light in them burning bright. Lance spent a few more moments like that, hands on Shiro and rocking hips in time with his, pants coming out heavier as the movement grew hard. Something was brewing in his eyes, delightful and mischievous all the same. Shiro watched him, felt how his hands crept up, tracing the lines of fire along Shiro's limbs and back. He groaned, feeling a hand take over and press along his knot, massaging the heavy heated skin hanging between his legs.

“Thirty minutes,” Lance breathed. “You have thirty minutes to get me to cum, so what are you going to do?”

Lance watched Shiro as he blanked. What _was_ he going to do? They had to clean up and get dressed-oh, what were they going to wear? If Shiro had only remembered then he could have laid out some clothes beforehand for them. And their smell! Sex hung heavy between them, their scents wrapped up around each other with a perfect little bow on top. There was no trying to deny it, the way the two were claimed, the primal scent of their finish going to be the wonderful touches to let everyone know. And they have been there for a while too, with Shiro rolling his hips slowly into Lance's tight body, dragging along his walls and tearing every sound out of his ragged throat. So their bodies were marked completely through.

Shiro scrunched his nose at himself. He smelled like Lance's heavy musk and sweat. What a lovely combination for visiting his father. Damn it!

But it was doing something wicked to his body. Little lights bubbled along his skin and burst, sending heat through his veins with each sound Lance made.

“Hey, hey,” Lance cut in. “Breathe, babe. You're not going to get caught if that's what you're worried about. And who cares, it's not like he wasn't the same way.”

“Lance,” Shiro warned. He'd rather not think about his dad's earlier life like that. 

“Don't ‘Lance’ me, he had to at some point to have you.”

Lance laughed at how Shiro glared at him, purr rising as he finally settled and let Shiro's mouth take over his neck. He breathed out into Shiro's shoulder, hands marking lines into his back. Shiro stroked them again, feeling how Lance arched and moaned at the simple touch. He was strung out, so on edge and waiting for release.

“Well then,” Lance shuddered. “Make it fast and we'll be fine. Do whatever you want, I trust you.”

Lance laid back again, eyes lidded as he waited. He was giving the reins over to Shiro in this moment. It was clear, with the way his legs fell open, ankles unlocking from behind Shiro's back and knees bending. It was so painfully obvious. There was no better way to get them both off.

Shiro stared for a moment longer, selfishly, mapping out all the little marks he had left on his skin earlier, tracing fingers where he had bruised hips with his hands. Lance was open before him, vulnerable for any act Shiro would give him. His cock twitched when Shiro's gaze moved over it, slicking a mess over his stomach.

Glancing up, he caught Lance's eyes. The blue was brilliant, sparkling as he waited, watching for Shiro's move. There was more there than the ocean, more than the stars in the universe. Lance's eyes shone with life, vibrant with want as he quivered waiting for Shiro's touch. 

Shiro dipped down, trying to cover over every inch of Lance with as little time as he could manage. The first touch, Lance gasped, thighs closing around Shiro as he arched up. His body moved with Shiro, pulling towards him, pushing against him as the gravity of their want spun out. Shiro groaned at the hands that tugged at his hair. 

He wished to be able to do more, wished to spend time on those little spots of his, moving from one hand, down his arms and across to the other, sucking on pert nipples along the way and licking between fingers. He wanted to kiss the inside of his elbows, nip along his ribs, dip his tongue into Lance's belly button and feel how he bows up. Shiro wanted to spread open hesitant legs, kiss along trembling thighs, leave delicate kisses over ankles. He _needed_ to love every inch of Lance, but all he could take care of now where the seven in his mouth.

Lance became undone beneath him. Legs spread wide and mouth falling open as a stream of curses and praise fell from his lips. His hands scratched at Shiro, nails digging into the back of Shiro's shoulders, marking him up like how he tore at the sheets. Shiro could practically hear his teeth clack together when he snapped his jaw shut, clenching and swallowing down another string of words that tumbled out of his throat. 

Shiro marvelled at him, eyes tearing up when Lance bucked his hips, hands trembling but forcing Shiro down on his cock. He was desperate, begging for his orgasm along with his gumble of threats. Shiro smiled around the heat in his mouth, feeling it throb and twitch under his tongue, the taste so very much like Lance, bitter but light in the back of his throat. His head followed how Lance's hands moved, even after he pulled them away to grip the sheets, back arched and stomach convulsing as he tried to breathe. Shiro rubbed his ankles, feeling his thighs tremble, his toes curling. 

He was so close, but Shiro wanted all that much longer with him. He wanted to pull off, or to lower his head all the way and simply suck gently, to stop altogether and hold Lance heavy on his tongue feeling the curl of hair against his nose. Shiro wanted to have everything Lance could give him. This wasn't it, he had seen more before. This was simply a quick fuck between meetings, a tired handjob when they finally reunited after a long day. It wasn't their best, but when Lance came, mouth open in a silent scream, half off the bed as he grappled to grab onto Shiro, filling his throat with the warm, bitter taste, Shiro wouldn't want it any other way.

The heat, the sounds, the way Lance completely falls apart every single time, even if it is only a handjob, even if it's only rutting in the middle of the night, or hushed in some hidden room between meetings, Shiro wouldn't give it up for anything. Lance drew everything out of him when like this. He ground down against the bed, listening, tasting, feeling _everything_. Lance filled every sense, and wrapped Shiro up completely. He came when pulling off Lance's softening cock, loud, wet pop doing him in and the sounds of Lance purring, hand in Shiro's hair and tugging gently.

It was a rush of heat to his system. All at once he felt complete, having seen Lance in utter bliss, how his face gave away every sensation, every wonderful thing Shiro did to him. If filled Shiro's chest, made him swell in all the right places. He had already been so close, and that was the last push, the last bit of emotional drive he needed to know this was alright, that he didn't need to knot Lance, that this was already so much for him. The musk, and the heat in his mouth, feeling Lance fuck into his throat sent little bursts of light along the back of his skull, his eyes blurring with white as his orgasm hit.

Lance was there too, cooing to him, pulling close so he could grip onto Shiro's knot and let him rut between shaky thighs. He marked up Lance, his scent now over his stomach and chest in wonderful white ribbons. Little marks of claiming, and Lance took it all, so willing to let Shiro scent him like this. 

Shiro groaned, hips snapping forward roughly as he watched Lance. His mouth was parted as he laid back, feeling the power behind Shiro's thrusts, how his hips ground, and how he chuffed low to him. Shiro felt that part of him slipping, wanting to call out to Lance, but he bit his tongue. He couldn't do that now. It was too soon.

But he relished how Lance played with his cock as he came, fingers tracing the head and veins as he knotted Lance's thighs, riding out the orgasm much faster than normal. All because he wasn't locked onto Lance like he wanted. Shiro's body knew it. The heat and slick wasn't there, the pressure against his throbbing cock. It hurt in a way, along his knot that was tightly trapped in Lance's legs, but not nearly enough to ruin the tail end of his orgasm.

He bucked his hips once more, catching a laugh out of Lance as he moved with him. He was absolutely radiant, bright smile and nose crinkled. He was also covered in Shiro's cum.

It followed the dips and planes of his stomach, pooling in his muscles, along his chest and over his neck, even in his belly button. Lance was an absolute mess, but he was loving it, even going so far as to lick the cum off his fingers and wink at Shiro.

“You're a fucking mess,” Shiro said aloud, voice rougher than intended.

“And so are you,” Lance said, peering up at Shiro. He had a smile on his lips, eyes still heavy as he purred.

He was right though. Shiro could feel how his body trembled from the need of it, to have Lance like that against him, warm and comfortable as they mated. His skin felt sensitive when Lance touched, pebbling under his fingertips and raising the hair along the back of his neck. His eyes closed as those fingers moved further, tipping his chin back to exposed his swollen glands, the cold running through his body when Lance kissed there mixed with the steady heat of his glow.

Shiro watched as Lance stretched back, marveling at the dip of his stomach and the curve of sharp hip bones, how his cock rested so innocently against his thigh. He smelled marvelous, musk coating the back of Shiro's throat and he leaned down to kissed his soft stomach.

“C'mon,” Shiro murmured against the trail of hair on his lower belly. “We to clean up, especially you.”

“You don't think I can lick this all up myself?”

Shiro wrinkled his nose at Lance, frowning. He wasn't too sure how to feel about that, but then again, Lance has swallowed everything Shiro's given him before.

Lance went on, oblivious to his look. “You taste fucking amazing.”

“Ew, Lance!”

“What? You do,” Lance exclaimed. “Have you ever tried yourself?”

“Have you?” Shiro was trying not to laugh, but how could he hide it? Lance was ridiculously beautiful stretched out in his arms.

“Yes, of course I have. Are you telling me, you've never tried your own cum before?”

“Obviously not,” Shiro said. 

He was already off the bed, kissing Lance's knees to try and pull him along. It was a slow process, but Lance followed, suddenly pressing up into Shiro's space.

“Then,” Lance said, pressing his hand closer to Shiro's face. “Try it now, please.”

He hesitated, but crumpled when looking at Lance. His eyes were still glossy from his orgasm, red tint to his skin over the spread of stars along his cheeks in the form of freckles, beads of glimmering sweat along his jaw and neck, hair curling and sticking to his cheeks and temples. There was nothing he wouldn't do for this look, the way Lance flooded him with adoration and love, eyes warm as they took in Shiro's soft, unsure smile.

Again, he would do anything.

Lance's mouth quarked, waited a moment longer as Shiro leaned in. He couldn't believe Lance wanted him to do this, he knew how gross he was. It was no surprise. Shiro's taste was too heavy, like his scent, clinging to the back of his throat even after swallowing. It ruined the lovely taste of Lance in his mouth, but he kept it up, swirling his tongue around Lance's finger and getting a sharp intake of air from him, before pulling off in one slow drag. He loved that sound and those looks, so it made this easy to do.

Shiro made another pop with his lips before Lance was on him, hard kiss against him in a moment. Their mouths parted, Lance incessantly pressing along the seam of Shiro's lips, tongue slipping in. He licked at Shiro's teeth, along his canines and roof of his mouth. They breathed in each other, Shiro holding Lance's waist as he finally made to step off the bed.

Lance pulled away, running his tongue along his lips as he gazed up at Shiro. He felt his heart skip, with the way Lance stood up fully and pushed closer, shoving into his space.

“Not too bad at least, right?”

“No,” Shiro breathed, drawn in by Lance's smell and mouth.

The way he smiled lit up stars in Shiro's eyes, bright lights spanning the darkness of the room around Lance's form. A dazzling wonder before him, having crossed time and the space to be here.

Shiro fluttered his eyes closed when Lance leaned in again, letting those constellations fill his vision as Lance kissed him again.There were hands on him, smooth over his shoulders and then down his chest, reaching to hold his waist. The touches on each other grew pliant within moments, with Shiro holding steadying to the back of Lance's head, and thin fingers trailing up his side to form along the scars there.

Shiro's teeth ached to show, to mark up this beautiful man and clack against Lance's own. They do that so often, playful and dominating, Lance usually the one shoving into him and biting, teeth bared as they pant into each other's air.

He was so damn addicting like that. The way he pressed up close, mouth hovering over Shiro's for a while in a snarling, and wonderfully evil grin. Fuck, Lance could drag him around for hours like that if he wanted, but he usually always relented and bared his neck to Shiro, shuddering at how teeth scraped, tongue and lips latching onto his glands.

Now, Lance was gently nipping at Shiro, moving along with him as they slowly drifted towards the bathroom. They needed to get cleaned up, and in record time, so Shiro turned on the water, and before it could get warm, he jumped in. He yelped and could practically feel all the heat and arousal shrivel up in a moment, icy water smacking him in the face like heavy snow. Lance laughed but jumped when Shiro threw water his way, deadly glare burning in his eyes in a second.

“Shiro,” Lance barked. “I swear if you get me wet before it's warm, I'm going to hold you under the next time you take a bath!”

Shiro tried to chuckle, but he was shivering, uncontrollably, teeth clacking together and body shaking under the cold blast. As quickly as he could he washed off, feeling the water becoming warmer. He held out his hand to Lance, careful to pull him in with all the water on the tile. He didn't bother closing the door, instead quickly cleaning them both off as he pressed into Lance's back and nuzzled his hair.

Lance purred as they ran hands along each other, tilting his head up to catch the spray on his face. Shiro touched Lance’s chin, watching the water run along the curves and lines of his face. He should have been able to place kisses here for much longer. He should be able to do as much as he wanted, but there was no way he could give up his father's meeting. It's been nearly two weeks since Shiro's seen the man. His heart twinged at the thought of that absence.

Shiro was the first to jump out, the air cold on his skin once again as he rushed out of the room. If only he could find those fitted slacks, the ones that made Lance's legs look fantastic. He may not be allowed to touch, but he could marvel and swoon over his husband. He tore through boxes, finding pair after pair of jeans, but no dress clothes. 

“If you're looking for dress pants,” Lance suddenly said at his shoulder. “That's the wrong box, obviously.”

Shiro leaned back to meet his hand as it smoothed back his wet hair. It felt glorious with Lance's attention, the way he so easily leaned in and took over any rational thought from Shiro's head.

“They're all in this one,” Lance said. “Calm down for a second.”

Shiro breathed in, thankful for Lance's voice, for his touch and soft smile. It stilled him for a moment, long enough for Lance to take over and pull out the pair Shiro wanted him to wear. Sometimes Shiro hated how Lance knew so much about his tastes, he felt too predictable.

Lance rummaged around a few more moments, pulling out a deep red sweater to match. Shiro knows this one well. It wasn't too heavy, but it was the one thing that got them into this wonderfully, playful fantasy. Shiro shook his head. This was all getting to him, but luckily, his dream was real and standing in front of him.

“Is this… something you were leaning towards,” Lance asked, little playful lilt to his voice.

“Yes.” Shiro pressed close and kissed his hair. “It's perfect, but go get dressed, we don't have a lot of time.”

“Hmm,” Lance smirked. “You're always looking out for me.”

“Well, you deserve to be comfortable, even of it is with my father,” Shiro nearly whined.

He wished they had so much more time, he would have been able to treat Lance with all the love and affection he deserved.

Lance laughed suddenly.

“Do you think Mad will believe we’re doing alright?”

Shiro looked up at him, meeting a bright, wide smile, and gleaming eyes. He had a healthy glow and radiant skin. Lance looked perfectly happy and content, even going on to hum as his eyes roved over Shiro for a moment. He shuddered all over, dressing quickly in his own relaxed slacks and button up as Lance's thoughtful gaze followed the movements. 

Shiro couldn’t help smiling hearing Lance use his father’s pet name so freely. It was a running joke in the Shirogane family, since the man was so free spirited and kind, plus the name Madison had been a handful when Shiro was first learning to speak as a baby. Even “dad” was too much, and Shiro has called him that ever since. He remembers his mom used to say it too, to pick at him.

“I think he already knows it,” Shiro mumbled. His father was pretty keen to these type of things, and he had yet to come to Shiro with anything negative. 

“Did you want anything to cover up the scent,” Lance asked, slipping socks on as he diligently tried to dry his hair too. It was a lovely image. 

“No,” Shiro sighed. “It's not going to help, besides, I like how you smell right now.”

“Oh, you mean covered in your spunk?”

“Lance-"

“It's okay, I understand, but we should probably brush our teeth,” Lance quarked. “You still taste like me.”

Shiro let his spit collect in his mouth. He couldn't taste Lance, but then again, he would been more keen to that sort of thing. All Shiro smelt was himself, and Lance was shrouded in it. It curled his stomach a bit, how that was the first thing he smelled, but when pressing up close, he could feel the warmth again, circling through his lungs and mouth. Lance's scent was so unbelievably sharp, cutting through Shiro's thoughts and clearing the rampant anxiousness.

They helped each other with the last touches, Shiro being a little less so when he started twisting Lance’s damp hair in his fingers, curling them against his cheeks and nape of his neck. 

“Shiro, stop!” But Lance laughed, giving into the unruliness of his natural hair and letting it curl as he quickly tried to dry it. Shiro got an irritated frown when he slid his own hair back, making sure the white wasn’t out of place and leaned back against the counter to watch Lance a moment longer. He never had to worry about hair problems as much as Lance, and his husband always complained about that. 

Shiro let his gaze linger on Lance, how he fidgeted and moved about the room with such ease. It brought a little less than a sad smile to his face. Lance should have been draped over him, hanging onto him for support. Only thirty minutes ago Lance was begging for him, pleading with Shiro to be rougher, to grip tight and let him have those moments of bliss. Now Lance was back to his normal demeanor, face smooth as if nothing happened, until Shiro leaned in to nuzzle him and scent the heavy smells along his neck. Lance’s smile spread easily, a tint coloring his face and deepening the lovely freckles along his cheeks. Okay, now that sent a little trill up his spine. He wanted that, needed to see some kind of recognition on Lance's face.

Shiro pressed a kiss to his warm cheek, and then one to his temple, and another to his eyebrow. He wanted to cover all of Lance’s skin, showering him with the attention. Lance smelled clean, his clothes still pressed despite having been put into boxes. He looked put together and sure of what he was doing, while Shiro picked at his suit jacket and felt his heart hammering. Thinking about walking even a few feet outside their door was setting him on edge. Maybe they should cover their scent...

Lance came to the rescue, wrapping his arm up in Shiro’s and leaned on him as they moved down the first corridor. 

Shiro felt like his feet were dragging, his body heavy and tense, exhausted. Lance glanced up at him, leaning forward to kiss his shoulder as they went around another turn.

“You don’t need to look like we got caught already,” Lance laughed. “No one’s even looking at us.”

He was right, but Shiro couldn’t help tensing up whenever someone passed by. He couldn’t get a hold on his body the way Lance could, he could never walk down the halls with a spring in his step the way Lance managed. He was always so vibrant like that, but at least the way Lance acted made him feel better, warming up his body with a simple smile as Shiro was tugged down the hall.

“Besides,” Lance went on, a little more of a cheeky tone to his words. “I’m pretty sure they already know since that first time, it’s not like we kept quiet after all.”

Shiro felt the heat rise in his face thinking about it. Lance arched and breathing hard from his orgasm, jolting up when he realized what happened. Shiro had stared, because Lance had let out the loudest call, choked and uninterrupted. It sent heat flowing through him at the memory of Lance’s nervous smile and laugh, the way his scent fanned out through the room with the intensity of his climax. Shiro's body was shaky as he struggled to contain himself, to keep from marking up that beautifully, wonderful neck that was presented to him.

“And you did nothing to hide the smell on me after.” Lance’s smile was faint as he moved ahead of Shiro, still holding his hand, unfair as it quarked up with the truth of the words. Shiro’s eyes flicked down, following the movement of Lance’s legs, and butt, as he moved.

“Why would I want to cover it up,” Shiro asked. “You're intoxicating every single time.”

Lance hummed, turning around to face him further and pressed up close enough to make Shiro trip over himself. Right in front of someone.

Lance laughed, soft little apologies on his lips as they went on and Shiro tried to fight down the heat spreading across his face.

Shiro wondered how Lance was so energetic right now, while he could pass out the rest of the day if given the chance. But, then again, Lance was known for falling asleep suddenly. He had a gift for it, curling up in windows when the sun was high and sleeping against the panes. Shiro marveled the first time Lance did it, having been silent for an hour already, curled up in one of the many windows along their wall. Shiro had glanced up, only to pause in his work and go to check on Lance. He didn’t wake up easily, eyes bleary as he took in Shiro and being lifted off the windowsill, chest rumbling with a purr when pulled into Shiro’s lap on the bed. That evening had been one of the most wonderful first moments he had with Lance, where he laid there and took in Lance’s sleeping form, legs draped over Shiro's own but face nuzzling into the pillows. He wondered how Lance slept so easily during the day.

Now though, it was all too common to find Lance somewhere comfortable, often hiding from others to get some source of quiet in his day. 

Looking at him now, Shiro wasn't sure if Lance could make it through the visit, despite his chipper attitude and rampant talking about their anniversary dinner later that night. If he knew anything about Lance, it was certain he was sure to pass out in his chair. He would struggle with it, eyes fluttering closed a few times before giving in. Shiro could count how often it happened before Lance would give up and move to find some solitude.

Shiro smiled thinking about that. How was Lance running so much energy all the time anyway? Maybe it was from all the food he ate. Even with his smaller frame, Lance really seemed keen on trying to beat Shiro when it came to eating, and his energy was astounding after.

He glanced once more at his mate when they reached his father’s door, seeing how Lance’s eyes were downcast for a moment. His smile was a little slower than normal to respond when seeing Shiro's glance.

Yeah, Lance might end up leaning on him again.

He didn’t mind at all.

But as soon as Lance walked into the small estate, there was a little chirp on his tongue to greet his father-in-law, bringing up that little bit of face when seeing the man. Lance never had to try hard around him, and Shiro was thankful for that. It was captivating to see how easily Lance opening up to the man.

“Madison,” Lance cooed loudly, searching for the man.

He was in the back room. He was always there, for the past two years. Shiro couldn’t remember the last time he had seen the man walking down the halls, light shimmering on his skin and gleaming off his bright smile.

There was an answering call, light and respectful before they reached the door, but all Shiro heard was the raspiness to the older man's voice. It hurt hearing that, hearing the illness in his lungs, how it had racked through his body late at night, when he hugged close to his father’s side, hovering. He wasn’t sure if he should leave Madison alone. Shiro didn’t want to, he couldn’t.

Lance was the first to go in, glancing back as Shiro hesitated. There was a heaviness, a dread that settled over his body then and made him wince at his own selfishness. He wanted to see his father healthy again, up and moving like he once had before. He didn’t want to see him like this anymore, his chest ached every time and felt like crumbling apart hearing him talk with that heavy, hurting tone. 

That thought weighed heavy on him. He was a terrible son in those moments. How could he be so selfish? Why would he wish for something when he knew it couldn’t happen? And he loved the man, with all his heart, but it still crushed him thinking about what he had been. 

On the other side of the door he could hear Lance’s laugh, light and airy, words settling into something whimsical as he joked. Shiro smiled hearing them, how they talked so casually. He knew Lance visited often, and often danced around Shiro’s questions about their conversations with a little ‘if you had been there’ hanging over his head. 

Shiro tried to hide his frown behind a smile at the way Lance tipped his head during those times, playing with Shiro’s shirt and running his hands over him. That always ate him alive. “If only you had been there…”

He swallowed thickly. He needed to be there as much as he could, and recently, Shiro felt horrible every night he laid down to sleep, knowing he should have pushed something aside, shouldn’t have spent so much time somewhere, or had risen earlier, if only to see his father more.

Again, he paused, feeling the shame and guilt swallowing him up. Shiro needed to stop hesitating so much. So he pressed forward, blinking against the light and taking in the warmth that enveloped him. 

Lance had turned towards him, perched on the edge of a chair and leaning partly over the small table between them. His father was sitting up in his seat, tall, turned towards Lance with his big smile and warm eyes.

Lance’s cool eyes were reassuring in a way as they shifted to drag along Shiro’s form, pulling him further into the room as that gravity yanked at his heart once again. 

He tried to breathe steady, tried to keep his body from tensing and crumpling all at once. He should have done more, should have tried more to see him. Because that smile and those eyes, the way the man beamed up at Shiro, made him tremble and eyes prickle with heat and shame.

“Shiro, my baby boy,” Maddison cooed. Shiro smiled, feeling his body give out into the hug directed towards him. 

Shiro pressed forward, he couldn’t help himself, and nuzzled into his father’s waiting arms. He felt thin, trembling a bit in his arms, weak to the point Shiro was afraid to hug him like he used to. At some point, he forgot when he started being the tall one, and his father became frail. Shiro wanted to whimper seeing him like this, feeling how small Madison was in his arms. But he couldn’t. He would never do that around him, despite how much his chest ached in those moments when they spoke.

Lance has only ever seen him like that, fully broken and clutching onto the sheets of their bed as he sobbed. 

“Hi, dad,” Shiro choked. He swallowed it down, not willing to give everything away. 

Shiro wished he had done this so much sooner, and more often. He should have been here every day to hear his father’s voice, to ignore those thoughts and be with him, see how his grey eyes glimmered now looking at them, how his beard had grown out, red hair now pebbled with white.

“How have you been?”

“Better since the last time you saw me, but fix yourself up, there's no reason to look like that,” Maddison laughed.

Shiro felt the heat rise in his throat again. He should have done more to clean up, should have masked his smell more. He shouldn't have be so open with Lance's scent on his skin, it was disrespectful. 

But then the man was musing Shiro’s head as he pulled away, ruffling up the white strands.

“Look at that! You shouldn't go out with your hair in that state!”

Shiro laughed, the sting in his eyes growing at the memory of the old game. Shiro’s hair had never been tame, not until he figured out how to comb it back, the longer forelock smoothing out the rest of the mess. It fell into his eyes now, still damp and now tangled from the rough treatment.

Lance’s fingers were there suddenly, pulling Shiro back into the chair next to him and combing his hair. He always did this, his lithe fingers made the work easy and quick, little clicks coming out if he found tangles and worked them gently. Slowly, he smoothed back his hair, before gripping Shiro’s chin and kissing his cheek. It steadied him, made Shiro breath in deep and calm his nerves. 

“So,” Maddison spoke up, his signature smile brilliant and blinding. Shiro always remembered how his mother compared it to the sun. He understood that now, looking over at Lance, even the small smirk he got twisting up something inside and warmed his core.

“I’m glad you can take time off your busy anniversary day to see me,” he said. “Congratulations you two. I hope the year wasn’t too strenuous, with… everything.”

No, not at all. Only that first night really. So far everything was beyond what Shiro could ever dream of, the man next to him had captured him over and over in the waking light of dawn, blinding him with the way the light warmed his skin and left a glow in his hair. There was nothing to compare to it, waking up to him was a new beginning in itself, every day a new start, another day learning more. 

Lance beamed, catching Shiro up in another eager kiss on the cheek. His lips were warm and soft on Shiro’s skin, leaving a faint tingle behind that prickled all down Shiro’s spine as Lance trailed his hand down, following the feeling. 

“Thank you, Mad. It’s been amazing actually.” 

Amazing? Was that really all he was going to say? But looking at Lance, Shiro could see the hidden galaxy of words, shifting and moving as they floated about behind his eyes, each one taking their time as he mulled them over, all thinking about the depth to them and the way he connected them to his life. Overwhelming, heart-stopping, unbelievable. The words hung there between them, heavy on their skin from being reminded over and over again. 

“Wonderful! I know how Shiro can get,” Maddison went on, his voice lowering a bit as if Shiro wasn’t present, voice catching onto a playful lilt. “He’s an overthinker, just like his mom. He gets into the most unnecessary pickles all the time.”

“Dad,” Shiro huffed, smile creeping onto his lips.

This man was ridiculous. 

“What?” His father crossed his arms, brows raising at him. “It’s true and you know it. When was the last time you didn’t get nervous about anything? I bet you got jitters walking over here.”

Lance laughed, forcing the heat in Shiro’s face to flare further. 

“It’s true,” Lance spoke up. “He was holding onto me the whole time.”

Shiro felt so betrayed, and by his own husband! These two were ganging up on him and making his life difficult, but at least he could get back at Lance later. Shiro let him know, turning to him with a straight face covering the murth in his eyes, brows raising slightly as he did. He hoped Lance got the picture, and knew he was going to suffer for this. Shiro couldn’t wait to hear that needy little voice of his, begging for a little more attention, pleading with him.

“I was not,” he mumbled, knowing fully well that wasn't the truth.

Lance laughed, letting his gaze linger on Shiro and his fingers move along Shiro's hand under the table, sending little flurries of warmth along his skin. It felt lovely on his body, and he wanted more.

“You two have any plans tonight,” Mad asked. “I hear there's some local musicians playing in town tonight. Keith brought me some of their posters yesterday. He's always trying to sneak me out behind the other's backs. Or, maybe some dinner? You two haven't been out in a while.”

Lance had slumped against Shiro a little too casually during that, eyes growing heavy as his fingers rubbed circles in Shiro's palm. He got lost a moment breathing in Lance, some words escaping his mind despide how he struggled to push.

Lance shook his head to all of these, resting his head against Shiro’s shoulder, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. 

Shiro smiled to himself. Lance was struggling to hold his eyes open, despite how he still listened. 

“I’m going to make him dinner tonight,” Shiro said. “It's going to be quiet. We still have a few more things to pack before tomorrow and then we'll be gone by midday.”

He brought up one of Lance’s hands to wake him a bit, kissing the knuckles slow and watching his eyes open. He smelt amazing still, the heavy scent of his finish still lingering if Shiro breathed in deep along Lance’s fingertips. It helped a lot, with how scattered and shameful he felt in that moment, lying to his father so blatantly and feeling it stick to his throat, quieting his mind and helping him concentrate on waking his husband. 

Lance piped in, after looking up at Shiro with his distant lidded eyes. Shiro could see how bad he needed sleep. “Yeah, we haven't really planned much. Our timing for moving could have been better.”

“Well… at least you can start another year in your own home. I think that's a wonderful enough gift.” Madison grinned at them. “So what are you planning to make? It better be good, you don’t want to run off this one with your terrible cooking skills.”

“Oh, give him some credit, he makes me lunch almost every day.” Lance looked up at him again, resting his chin on Shiro’s shoulder this time. 

His gaze was soft, relaxed as he leaned on Shiro, adorable and warm enough for him to be drawn in, leaning in those last few inches to kiss Lance’s nose. 

“But you're not wrong,” Lance went on, as if Shiro hadn't just kissed him. “Most of that I had to teach him.”

Madison seamed to marvel at their little show, smiling when Shiro glanced up at him and ducked his head. He shouldn’t be so affectionate to Lance around his father. He keeps forgetting that, but lately, the man hasn’t moved a muscle to stop them. 

“Shiro was always good at spoiling people.”

“He is,” Lance purred, losing himself in his exhaustion. “I don't think I've met anyone who hovers quite like Shiro.”

Lance smiled up at him, his little cheshire grin curling the corners of his mouth and flashing his bright canines. Shiro nearly purred at the look.

“And I've never met anyone quite so irritating and pushy,” Shiro joked. He moved his fingers that had been ghosting over Lance's arm to poke at his stomach, feeling Lance bunch up and tense with a laugh.

But he relaxed back into the motion and leaned against Shiro, taking in his warmth and closing his eyes again once his forehead pressed back into a broad shoulder.

“Well,” Lance huffed. “If you didn’t hover, then maybe I wouldn’t be so cranky.”

That was a lie and they all knew it, with the way one corned of Lance’s mouth quirked. But Shiro wasn’t paying attention too much, not when Lance was pressing heavy into his side, head tilting every so often like a force was pulling on him.

Lance looked exhausted and Shiro struggled to keep him awake, letting his fingers play with Lance's side to keep up his smile and little hidden jolts. He could feel Lance shiver as his fingertips glided up under his sweater, circling over his side. 

He teettered a moment, to the point where Shiro had to grab him and pull Lance against his chest.

His husband needed to go lay down.

“Lance,” Shiro cooed, pressing his hands gently to cup Lance’s face. He hummed back. At least he wasn’t so totally out of it, but he went out much sooner than Shiro expected.

“I think you should go to bed, you’re about to pass out.”

“What? No, I’m totally fine.” His brows creased in the middle, eyes not even opening to look at Shiro. He never wanted to kiss Lance more in his life, with the way his soft lips turned into a pout, but the lines of exhaustion turning up around his mouth and eyes. He wanted to reassure Lance, to cover him in loving touches, but right now he needed to go back to their room and rest.

Even Madison noticed, eyes roaming over the two of them before meeting Shiro’s gaze. “Maybe you should listen to him, you look exhausted.”

“No, I’m fine,” Lance pressed, but his eyes were still heavy despite the jump in his voice. “We won’t get to see you for a while once we leave.”

Madison smiled, a full show of amusement that spread to his eyes and softened his face. “Would you like something to eat then, to wake up? I have a few pastries and cake slices left from lunch.”

“Thank you, but no,” Lance said. “My stomach is hurting a bit.”

Shiro looked over at him. Lance only looked tired, but when Shiro reached out, running a thumb along Lance's arm, he shivered. His skin felt warm, but not feverish, body pushing for him to rest. 

“Lance, please,” Shiro hummed, pressing his face close for reassurance. He felt warmer there, along his neck and face. “Go get some rest, I’ll be there in a moment.”

Lance nodded, finally relenting, and slowly rose out of his chair on wobbly legs. Lance didn’t forget his kiss to Shiro’s forehead though, or the nuzzle right after to the side of his face. He breathed against Shiro’s ear, hands holding onto his neck for a moment, thumbs pressed into Shiro’s glands, before slipping off and waving his goodbye to Madison, small coo rising into his throat. Shiro's body trembled watching Lance leave, a coolness having spread through his limbs at the touch on his neck and lulled him into a state. He could feel something stur, a faint shift of embers in his stomach.

It was a moment or two of silence as Shiro listened for Lance, feeling how he shifted on the other side of the door and moved slowly about the room to leave, practically hearing the door open and close as Lance disappeared from his senses. He felt empty and alone within moments after Lance’s absence. Oh, what an attachment he had.

“Lance…” his father sighed, “he reminds me of your mother. There’s something about the way he never strays from his ideas, it’s so much like her.” The man smiled to himself as a thousand images flashed behind his eyes. “It's an amazing quality.”

Shiro turned to look at him, saw how weight fell onto his shoulders in an instant, how his eyes drifted to the pattern of his chair. Shiro knew that look, had seen it all too many times before when trying to get his father’s attention. It was dark and torn, the turmoil in him having ripped him apart too many times to count. Shiro saw it daily, with how his father looked at him, remembering her.

There was no mistaking those looks. His father was looking for remnants of his wife, in the shape of Shiro’s eyes, the curve of his cheeks, his attitudes and soft appearance. Shiro held a lot of his father’s strength, but Mad always made sure Shiro’s personality shown through without fault. It was a beautiful part of himself, one that he should never cover up. His father told him that every day, making sure he knew how important it was. 

But everytime the man looked at him, he wasn’t sure at times if Mad was seeing him, or his mother. He wasn’t sure who his father was actually trying to bring out with those words.

Shiro turned his eyes down when the man looked back up. He couldn’t handle that gaze. At least he never showed that look to Lance when they were together, seeing their attachment to each other. It was always heartbreaking, and neither one of them ever wanted to talk about it.

“What are you going to make him for dinner?”

Shiro blinked at the sudden question, lifting his head to meet those eyes.

His gaze was soft, amused watching Shiro, bright as he waited. Shiro smiled, thankful for how much his father was aware of himself, of those around him. He loved how easily the man turned the topic, seeing the distress on those around him, how uncomfortable or sorrowful.

“I'm making him some pad thai,” Shiro said.

“Oh, is it the one Allura used to make you? That was always too spicy for you, but he would love that, he has a much higher spice tolerance than you,” Madison beamed.

 _The one mom used to make_ , Shiro thought internally.

Madison went on, his talkative self getting ahead of Shiro. “You haven't told him the recipe have you? The trick is to make it when he's upset, brings anybody right back up from the gutters.”

“No,” Shiro chuckled, picking at the seam of his pants. “This is the first time I'm making it for him.”

“Good, that's perfect. He'll be in a good mood the whole day tomorrow.” 

“He's always in a good mood,” Shiro mumbles. Lance always found a way to smile, even if the day had been terrible for him. He always found ways to make others happy, but his face always falls when others look away.

His smile… Shiro's heart melted thinking about it, the way he glowed impossibly vibrant with colors. His own little sun and stars, filling the night sky even when there was no moon. Lance was constant, and Shiro was grateful for it. 

He wanted to do more for Lance. Make him smile because Shiro made him feel special, feel loved and worshiped, not because he had to. He didn't want Lance to have to please others all the time, Shiro wanted to know when he was upset, so he could give him the attention he deserved.

“That's very true,” Madison chuckled. “He really is a wonderful young man.”

Shiro felt the creep of heat on his face. Lance was wonderful, brilliant, irrational and irritating. Shiro loved it all.

“You know you smile more often now,” he went on.

Shiro tried to hide another one that pulled at his lips.

“You really do love him, don't you?”

Shiro nodded, impossibly stupid smile on his face now. He couldn't trust his words, not all of them. They threatened to spill out and say everything he absolutely loved about Lance. And he knew Lance loved him too, impossibly so. There was no way he didn't, and told Shiro every day. But it hung in the air with the way Lance draped over him and laughed at every stupid joke, no matter how terrible. His little snort was glorious. That's when Shiro knows the joke is good. He was devoted to Lance, completely, and with his whole soul. He could feel it, with the way his heart jumped with every look, how his skin pebbled and shivered under Lance's touch, how Shiro couldn't possibly tear his eyes away with every passing breath. 

He bit it all back. “Yes.”

“That's good,” Madison smiled. “It's hard to find that, especially in this type of situation, but it seems like you two found the perfect solution.”

More like Lance was everything Shiro had ever dreamed of. He still didn't know how such a perfect person could have entered his life like this.

He was so eager to make a home with him, the past few days have been a constant buzz. No wonder he forgot about so many things. The excitement was tearing at his head, but he couldn't keep it down. Shiro didn't want to.

It felt like eternity since the last time he thought about his future, this type of future, where he could have a home with someone who absolutely adored him. Lance had been a gift. Shiro scoffed, thinked about how he used to believe Lance had been dropped into his life. It was more along the lines of Lance had picked him up off the floor and carried him along, until he had been well enough to stand on his own two feet.

Shiro felt so strong, so steady, now that Lance had brushed up against every part of himself and worked his fingers restlessly over those painful spots in his being. 

He sighed, feeling the tail wisps of it linger in his chest and ache.

Lance was _everything_.

But… he wanted to share some of this, wanted his father to see just how happy he really was, for once. There had been a long time when a heaviness had pulled at him, dragging him under many times. He knew how much his father suffered from it too, had heard some of the things he said, or rather didn’t say. Madison’s looks were enough, his eyes gave away too much at times, how much he had feared for Shiro.

“Would… you like to join us tomorrow,” Shiro asked. “I would like you to be there, and I know Lance would love having you, too."

“No, no, it's not my place,” Madison said. But his smile gave away the thoughts in his head. “You two have a good time, it's your last day here. I'll make sure to come visit once your home is all set up, I don't want to intrude on that.”

Shiro nodded, thinking about how impossibly busy they would be. And it was true, he wasn’t sure how Lance actually would act. He may get too stressed, having someone in his home and trying to entertain them while putting things up how he wanted.

He expected Lance to get a little irritated, and Shiro knew he was going to feel it too. So maybe it wasn’t such a good idea.

Besides, they needed to reacquaint themselves with each other now that they had their own home.

Shiro tried to cover up the shudder that ran down his spine. Yeah, that wasn’t such a good idea, but at least he felt the weight leave for asking. He really did want his father there.

“How about you go check on him,” Madison spoke up. “You two should get some rest, before the drive tomorrow.”

Shiro nodded. It was a good idea, but he didn’t want to leave right then, it felt too soon. They barely even talked, and Shiro had so much more to say. “Okay… I’ll see you once we get settled?”

“Of course,” Madison smiled. “I wouldn’t miss that, seeing you two in your new home.”

The hug felt too rushed, the way he moved away, how he closed the door behind himself, was all too quick. Shiro stood there a moment, trying to gather all the words he wanted to say, to neatly collect and hold away safely in some part of his mind. He would see his father again, there was no fear of that, but Shiro didn’t trust his voice at all, or how silent he had been. He should have said more, feeling the creep of shame in his throat again.

Why couldn’t he ever get the words out?

Shiro blinked, finally registering the person in front of him. Oh right, he was still blocking the door. But he paused again, taking in the person and their smell. They were… familiar. Their black hair was braided back, but the eyes were what gave it away, the faint purple dark as they glared up at him. Impatient and waiting.

He shifted, uncomfortable under the omega’s gaze, but held it steady. Lance was the only one that gave him this look, and that was hard enough, but this person had no place. He kept the growl in his throat down though, biting his tongue. Shiro shouldn’t think like this. But lately, everyone either felt intrusive or disgusting in his eyes, and Lance’s smell had a lot to do with that, with how bad Shiro’s been wanting to claim him. 

This must be one of his father’s nurses. Shiro wondered how his father let such a grumpy man take care of him.

“You should go check on your mate,” the omega suddenly spoke up. “He nearly shoved me down in the hall earlier, it looked like he was going to throw up.”

He jolted at the words. Lance had been so calm when he left, but Shiro remembered the heat that had flared on Lance’s face, the way he sat practically pushing himself on top of Shiro, gravitating toward him without a second thought. 

Everything lit up at once, and he barely nodded in recognition, before pushing the man out of the way and rushing out into the hall.

He breathed deep, but smelled nothing. Nothing at all, except the other’s that mingled in the halls.

Maybe he was wrong.

It didn’t stop him from running back to his room, breathing in deep with every inhale, trying to see if he could find Lance, if he had wandered off somewhere else. But there was nothing, as if he vanished. Shiro should have been able to smell him, with the claiming scent he had left earlier. His chest ached at the loss, his head spinning trying to find Lance. It should have been easy, with they way he had committed him to memory, but whines came up with how faint Lance was in his lungs. It was like he didn’t want to be found.

But Shiro knew better, knew that sometimes Lance did that, and only left little breadcrumbs, little snippets of his scent that only Shiro knew. He was leaving that now, but barely, and Shiro found his way slowly back to their room.

Shiro peered in, but it was empty, the sheets not even turned over on the bed. There was something off, in how stale Lance’s scent was at first, and then hitting him all at once the further he moved in. It coiled in Shiro's gut, burned his throat as it went down. He drifted, closing in on the bathroom door, hearing the water run as he moved closer. His stomach turned over farther, mouth falling open as he breathed it. It hurt, the air itself burned going down, told him turn away, but he pressed forward, taking in the dim room and singling in on the form in the shower.

Lance was leaning against the shower wall, hands tight against the tile, mouth open and panting as he stood there. He met Shiro's eyes through the haze of steam, eyes casting down the moment he met them. He curled up in on himself, shrinking against the far wall.

That was so unlike him. Lance was usually calling to him, trying to pull Shiro's clothes off for him to join. But now Lance was in his own world, head against the wall as the water pounded his back. It made Shiro whine, with how he ached for Lance, how he understood that feeling, but he couldn’t help the little burst of light along his spine, excitement racing through his veins.

Shiro could barely smell it then, under all the scent Lance had tried to cover himself in with soaps. It lay on heavy and thick and new.

He made sure to go slow to not agitate Lance, stripping out of his clothes to step in the shower. Shiro paused, hearing a small sound, glancing up to see Lance watching him with the door open as he folded his pants and shirt, eyes blown wide and cock full and at attention between his legs. It twitched when Shiro’s eyes landed on him.

But the way Shiro's eyes roved over him a little too long snapped Lance back to reality. He tensed, eyes widening and turning down to look at the floor in front of him, knuckles near white as his hand gripped the handle of the shower door. His breathing was labored, drawn in through his teeth and not his nose. Lance was trying to contain himself, looked like he was doing everything in his power to not jump Shiro as he stepped close.

Shiro purred as he stood there before him, letting Lance’s eyes travel and inspect him, breathing in deep through his mouth to let the taste touch his palette and cling to his throat. Lance tasted _so damn good_.

His hand came up, wanting to touch, wanting to grab onto Lance. Shiro nearly forgot what this smell was like, but from Lance, it was heavenly. It brought up so much warmth to this skin, pooling low in his stomach. His arousal was clear, and Shiro let it fan out, so Lance can breathe it in, know that he loved it, wanted it, craved for Lance to put his hands on Shiro in any way he needed. His body ached all over with the want, little shocks of electricity hitting him when water droplets bounced off Lance and touched his own skin.

Lance seemed to be torn, teeth clenched, hands tight fists, but he was breathing Shiro in, with the way his tongue peeked out behind beautiful white teeth, trying to lap up the air and taste him. His eyes were impossibly blown when looking up at Shiro, before they moved down, taking in the state of Shiro's slowly hardening cock. Lance hadn't even touched him yet and he was already this worked up. Even the way Lance licked his lips sent a whole other shock through his system, balls tighten with the anticipation of that hovering hand.

And when it did touch, smoothing down his stomach and curling through thick hair, Shiro keened and pushed forward, following how Lance pulled back into the shower.

He nuzzled into Lance's space when given the invitation, drawing in breath after heavy breath of him, filling every crevasse of his body with the heavy musk that stuck in his veins, made it hard to cycle thoughts through his head. It became hard to move, with how heavy and thick this smell was, rendering Shiro’s hands useless as they tried to curl over hot skin. His nose pressed up to flared glands, drinking in the taste with a lick there.

“Shiro,” Lance choked

He rumbled back, low in his chest and opened up his body to Lance's touch. He needed more of it.

“Shiro, please,” Lance said again. His voice was deep, gravely, desperate. “Stop.”

Shiro shuddered when Lance hands pushed on his stomach, moving him away. He whimpered, but did as Lance said, holding still even after his hands hovered, thumb circling over his stomach before dropping away. Shiro had to, he had to listen to what his beautiful mate commanded of him.

“S-Shiro, I can’t.” Lance was trying to breathe, but failing miserably, hiccups threatening to tear up his voice. He was about to fall over the edge. “I-I thought I was going into heat my stomach was so twisted up, so I ran here. I was so excited, I wanted you to come back soon. But it hurt, so I came in here, and I...” 

Lance choked as he breathed in, shuddering when he looked up at Shiro's face. Lance would find nothing but want in his eyes, and Shiro knew it, he couldn’t help himself. Not with the way Lance was so close, so open, and taking over every inch of his head.

Lance looked away quickly, avoiding the way Shiro stared, raking over every inch of Lance as he spoke. “I can’t-there’s no way I can be this-”

“Lance,” Shiro begged. He could see Lance wilting, burning up fast at the sensations of everything, the onslaught to his head and body, everything building up heavy behind his eyes. The realization had hit Lance all in one go, his world crumbling around him, and all Shiro could do was watch and hope he could pull Lance out before he was crushed under the rubble. 

“They won’t let me be with you, not now-”

“Lance, stop!” Shiro pressed closer, pinning him back against the cold shower wall, forcing him to pay attention. The touching, the glances, everything Shiro did, only made Lance tense up and his whole body shudder. But he stayed rooted, sane, listening and drinking in Shiro’s words, pushing his mind to stay up above the surface for a little longer.

“They’re not going to do anything, I’m not going to let them,” Shiro snarled. They wouldn’t dare touch Lance. He would rip apart anyone who did.

“But-”

“I’m never going to let them touch you, Lance,” Shiro shuttered, focusing on the shape of Lance's mouth.

Shiro pushed closer, feeling Lance’s cock against his thigh now, the heaviness of his breathe as he panted, deep breathes that fanned over Shiro’s face and chest. Lance was staring up at him, taking in all of him, eyes lidded as his mate stepped closer. His hands were behind his back, probably having been clutched tight to one another, but they trembled when reaching out, moving gently over Shiro’s stomach and down.

Lance breathed in, shuddering as it went through his chest.

“Why couldn’t it have waited a little longer,” Lance begged. “Why did I have to present at all?”

Shiro felt a low rumble in his chest, growing with how Lance pressed forward.

“I hate this,” he huffed. But Lance’s head tipped back, face pushing up into Shiro’s space and forcing him to press into cold glass. His whole body shuddered at the cold glass on his back and the hot palm on his chest.

Shiro felt his breath catch in his throat, with how Lance’s hands were feather light in their movements, driving him up the wall and the shivers following Lance's nails as they scrapped light lines over his heated skin.

The touch went on for a while, to the point where Shiro had begun panting, his own cock hanging heavy between his legs at how Lance curled his fingers around him. He stroked a few times again, before letting go and pressing his hands to some other part of Shiro, like how he usually did. Shiro trembled, arching to try and rub on Lance, but got bared teeth against his lips with a terribly addictive smile. Lance’s mouth tasted amazing, his teeth smooth and breath warm on Shiro's tongue.

Shiro found himself aching for more of those kisses, mouth parted open and breathing deep through his nose as Lance hovered. It was painful when he moved away, but Shiro was never kept waiting too long, suddenly jolting at nails digging into skin, or hips grinding forward.

Shiro tried not to shudder at the way Lance ate him alive with that look, gaze clouding over as his first rut consumed him, eyes dilating to near black at the warmth that surrounded Shiro. He breathed, feeling it shudder and pause, waiting for Lance to move, waiting for it to latch it’s claws in and take over him. It was an achingly slow beginning.

He was trembling, fingers curling as Lance pushed slowly closer. He was… excited, exhilarated by the feeling of Lance’s gentle hands going over his chest, touching already perked nipples and the piercings, hips pressing hard against his own. Shiro jolted feeling a hand slip down, around along the curve of his ass, grabbing a handful and kneading, before releasing and moving lower. Fingers formed to the shape of his ass, slipping between and running in a slow circle once over a fluttering hole, before pressing for more. 

Shiro felt his jaw go slack, felt his hips stutter forward, and the way Lance purred had sounds coming up out of his throat, heat starting to spread out through every limb. He never knew what this felt like, the other side of a rut, but he absorbing all the attention Lance gave him against the shower wall. His whole body was alight with those touches, waiting for Lance to burst, waiting for that wall of smell to flood his lungs and make it impossible to breathe. 

He was gentle as ever though, bring Shiro's body to a heavy boil and making his voice ragged as sounds were cried out into the room, a mouth latched onto his neck. It was desperate yet soft as always, tongue peeking out to lick along his jaw, teasing, before lips wrapped around oversensitized glands, sucking restlessly as Shiro yelled.

Lance's hands didn't shake like Shiro's had his first time, they didn't waver as he touched, they pressed firm into his skin and tore out everything Shiro needed. They traveled his body, tracing scar after scar, Lance's lips hot as teeth bit against muscle. Shiro was waiting for it, the moment his nails would dig in, his teeth try to mark, much like he had done to pillows and sheets. 

But Lance was only tightening his hands on Shiro and not letting go.

He hummed into Shiro's mouth, drunk his sounds, even smiled when hearing stuttered whimpers. Lance was ruthlessly slow, pressing into Shiro and turning him about, making him bend and twist as that tongue penetrated into him, and then moving to taste his skin. 

And, fuck, did he beg for it, for Lance to do _something_ , anything but this terrible game. He fought against the purrs and chuckles, the little nips to his ear, the tongue along his sensitive skin. Lance knew every inch of him and it was unfair! 

Shiro tried to relax, but it was impossible when one second Lance was smoothing over a rough nip to the skin, and then the next hands were shoving and bending Shiro over. He let that first wave consume Lance, and grew pliant as the minutes passed, gripping onto any anchor so he wouldn’t be pulled under too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hesitate to leave me comments, I love the input and the stuff you guys say XD


	6. Late Night Drive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro needs to find a safe spot for them both while Lance progressively falls deeper into his rut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being so patient for this chapter, it's not much to move the story along, but it does center on Shiro's and Lance's own thoughts about his new presnetation. 
> 
> But this is where it starts getting a little crazy :3
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

He spun about the room, feeling his nerves finally dig in deep, drawing up all the terrible thoughts at once past the warmth of his orgasm. 

Shiro couldn't let anyone find Lance like this, he wouldn't let anyone touch him. Nobody could know. 

He breathed deep, feeling the heavy sweat mix in with the warm scent that clung to every pore of his body. It was Lance, all of it, every whisper and touch, every scratch of nails and word said. It rested heavy and warm around him, impossibly warm. Everything was beautifully lit up, burning as all of it went down his throat, thick and choking, threatening to suffocate him.

But he swallowed it down eagerly, and felt the cold of the room finally hit him, how the scent was too heavy and drifting.

He couldn't let anyone know about this, not yet.

Shiro let the distress fill his body, his own scent pouring from him in slow rolls, filling the room in moments.

He couldn't have people smell Lance.

His hands trembled, opening the door of his quarters to step out. His body felt heated, skin aching from the love and attention, wanting all that much more despite the signs of abuse to it. Shiro had to take care of this first, he had to mark the area, had to keep everyone away for a few hours more, till he could move Lance.

Once again, he let the scent shroud him, engulfing the hallway and spreading as far as he could, till the glands at his throat and between his legs ached. He let his own rut scent come up, swell and take over Lance's.

It was difficult though, with how strong Lance tried to cling to him, the new scent overpowering everything, but Shiro pushed himself. Everyone would believe the scent though, and hopefully Lance's own scent would have calmed down enough once they were gone, before anyone could notice. Shiro was long overdue for a rut anyway, so everyone would know to keep their distance. At least that would give them a day or two, before the scent became stale and they would notice their disappearance.

He drifted back into the room, still unsure, so uneasy. His gut twisted thinking about this, about Lance and his eyes, the way that they had tore into Shiro’s, pleading and scared. 

Shiro sighed at himself. He had pushed away that look from Lance, thinking about his own wants, spinning around the scent that poured from Lance’s body. He should have paid attention, should have comforted him before anything else.

He keeps managing to mess things up.

Now Lance was shaking, huddled up in the shower as Shiro doused him in cold water. The water wasn’t too cold, not enough to hurt, but Shiro’s heart sank at how Lance’s eyes stayed rooted to the tile, not peeking once even as Shiro moved to dry off his hair.

He could see the shame there, resting heavy on Lance’s frame. He didn’t dare look up, fearing what Shiro’s eyes might hold or what he would say. But all he wanted to do was lavish the man in praise and sweet nothings. He wanted to comfort him, wrap up in his scent like only minutes before. He wanted Lance to feel safe. Shiro wanted him to know that nothing else mattered, that no one would bother them, that Lance could be this and not feel ashamed, that Shiro loved this. Loved _him_.

Being an alpha was wonderful, and he wanted Lance to realize that. Once he got past the first initial pain and overwhelming rush, everything felt glorious. But more than anything, Shiro wanted Lance to know he was there to help. He knew how rough it would get, and well… the thought of another alpha dominating him in such a primal act sent a round of giddy heat through his system, bubbling and bursting along his skin, hair rising at the thought of teeth anywhere near his glands.

He groaned from sore muscles, moving to find Lance some fresh clothes and keep his thoughts from straying. It was difficult, when a bleary and sedated new alpha followed after him, after his mate, making sure to fuss over Shiro and demand to know what he was doing. It was endearing, how Lance hovered, eyebrows pinched with a bit of confusion from the rush of hormones in his system. Lance looked lost, unsure what to do with himself as he walked about the room with Shiro, holding onto his waist and pressing his teeth into the back of Shiro’s neck when kneeled down to look through boxes, taking solace in the big man.

A shudder ran through Shiro feeling the scrape of teeth there, hot breath fanned out over prickling flesh. He arched, following the way Lance’s hands moved along his sides, following the curve of his spine and waist, unable to stop the slight curve of his mouth in a grin. 

He knew Lance could smell it, the sharp arousal that still clung to him, and how his cock flared now at the alpha’s persistent touch. Oh, he was spent and aching, but that didn’t stop him from wanting more. Shiro needed more of that burn, those tones and rumbling tenors against his skin, nails dragging lines of artwork that were seared into muscle.

His body swayed, tipping forward a bit on his knees as Lance pressed up behind him, trying to twists Shiro to rub their glands together. He fought it, using his back to push against Lance. First, he needed to get the man out of here and give them some solitude for a few days. Then he will let Lance take over every inch of his body.

“Lance,” Shiro choked. His warning wasn’t as strong as he hoped, faltering at the way Lance’s hands had dipped down, body formed against his back. “Let me find you some clothes, I have to get you out of here first.”

Lance nodded against his back, but his hands were still searching over Shiro, desperately fighting at some sense of control and losing terribly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lance groaned. “But you better pack some lube, you’re gonna need it.”

Shiro shuddered, but a wide smile stread over his lips. He forgot how many pillows he fucked during those times, rubbing his cock raw with the need to latch himself onto something warm, wet and inviting. Having a mate was so much easier, a constant source of comfort that was so willing and pliant under his hands.

And damn was he more than willing.

“Okay,” Shiro huffed, tint coloring all the way from his shoulders to the tips of his ears. Maybe even beyond. His whole body felt hot. “Go put this on first, so you’re somewhat covered.”

Lance huffed, scraping his teeth over Shiro’s skin unceremoniously, sending sparks up his spine and making him limp in the legs. His knees shook against the floor as Lance smoothed his hands through Shiro’s hair.

Shiro knew the clothes would feel rough on his skin, too much sensation all at once, but he needed to cover up Lance long enough to get him somewhere safe. 

A thrill went up his spine watching Lance struggle to dress, eyes never leaving each other even as he fumbled with the zipper, throbbing cock still heavy and full. Shiro drowned in that gaze. It was heavy, thoughtful in a dark way, full of want and disgusting thoughts that had the hairs on the back of his head standing, hackles rising at the alpha being so territorial.

The feeling was warm though, not like it usually is around others. Shiro liked this game, how his nerves were all on edge, his nature trying to push away this newly presented alpha that had taken over his room, but at the same time it was calling out for it. Shiro wanted this, wanted to know how this sort of thing would actually work out. His body was alight with the sensations of Lance completely filling his head, a jumbled mix of standing his ground and submitting. It was lovely dance, and he wanted to play more of it, the two of them with hands roaming and trying to feel out the other, teeth showing between kisses and smiles wide when hearing deep, needy chuffs. He always admired that kind of dance, even wanted it at times. Having dark, weighted eyes on him always somehow sent a thrill through his body.

Lance tilted his head, smile forming in the corners of his mouth the longer Shiro stared, having lost himself in his own head. Shiro felt the heated purr in his throat at the look. 

“Are your going to get dressed,” Lance chirped. “Or give me lovey-dovey eyes all day?”

Shiro jolted, gaze flicking down to the floor and loopey smile wide on his face realizing he had been roaming the expanse of his mate, yet huffed, trying to feign innocence and cling to what little shred of sense he had. 

But why couldn't he do both? Other than the obvious fact that he would trip over himself being so distracted by his beautiful mate. Everything Lance had done deserved nothing less than that look of total awe and adoration.

“I think I can do both just fine,” he rumbled back.

Lance bared his teeth, playful as he finished buttoning his pants, smile wide as the look switched to a lazy grin. 

Shiro felt the burn in his gut with that look, an indescribable love that settled in his limbs. This will be alright. It would be fantastic.

He never felt something so unbridled, so dangerous, than he had with Lance. With the way his teeth had drug over Shiro, hands harsh in their movements at times, but steady throughout everything, especially when he felt like melting in Lance’s fingers. Lance had bent him over backwards with only a few words, silky voice slipping out between teeth at his throat.

He wanted Lance to understand just how beautiful and breathtaking all of this had been.

Shiro never expected to share a first rut or heat with anyone. And ever since Lance entered his life, he had been ungodly nervous and hesitant. It was a given that Lance would present to him, and it made him so unsteady thinking about it. He knew presentation heats were intense, and he wasn’t so keen on the idea of losing himself and making the first time scaring for Lance. He didn’t trust himself enough, despite how lovely it sounded. Shiro expected the soft noises and nuzzling, needy hushed words moaned into sheets, a back arched and bared to him, slick drooling down thighs with the onslaught of primal want.

He never expected kneeling down before another alpha, only having fleeting ideas when he was younger, but it had taken him along by the collar and dragged him through hell. But hell was fucking glorious, all fire and dark voices, smiles coating over heavy words that dragged along his spine and licked up every sound spilled out of his throat. Lance dragged him under in an instant. There was no way he was able to fight that smell, and the way his eyes had roved over Shiro and completely ate him up, one bite at a time, taking on a dark and playful lilt as they drug over sections of him.

Lance was nothing but _methodical_ in the way he picked at Shiro, tearing him apart within minutes, stripping him down in the shower to nothing. His purrs pulled Shiro from the brink, but they provided little reassurance as fingers trailed up his beautifully arched spine, feeling him shudder and shake as they traced muscle, forming over his shoulders and up his arms that had been plastered and scratching at the tiled wall. 

Shiro wanted to be so good, so _fucking good_ for him.

He waited like he was told. 

He didn’t touch himself.

He took all the little bites and pinches to his skin.

If he moved too much, hands became harsh and nails dug in. If his pushed back too roughly, teeth were on him and drawing blood, cutting a little too deep into skin. Shiro choked on his words, but Lance hummed at the sounds, holding open his mouth with fingers or his own tongue.

All of it was so _exhilarating_. 

Shiro wanted Lance to paint him black and blue. He couldn’t wait for Lance’s foot to come down and shove him into the floor. He’d kiss each toe and pepper that long leg in kisses.

The way Lance smoothed over his chest, eyes catching on parts of him, had Shiro’s body shivering. He felt the judgement from his mate, the way Lance’s eyes seemed a bit uninterested in their little trekk over Shiro’s skin and his simple whimpers. Shiro relished how Lance perked when he showed off. The corner of Lance’s mouth twitched when Shiro puffed out his chest a bit or arched further, a deep growl coming up from his body to display his tenor. Shiro would do anything to please him. He would bend backwards to have Lance touch him like that for a little longer, and he has.

It had been rough, and he loved every moment.

But right now, Shiro was trying to stroke some fire back into Lance’s eyes.

He looked so defeated and tired now, with how they had to sneak around, hide from everyone like this was some terrible secret. 

It wasn’t terrible, not by a long shot, but others didn’t have the same ideas as them, some people were still stuck in their archaic ways. Shiro’s gut clenched thinking about anyone trying to break their bond. But… they didn’t have one yet. They were so vulnerable to everything still, and Shiro wanted to whine, wanted to lay out his husband and claim him then, to keep him forever and keep others from prying. But he didn't think that would be enough either. And what if he couldn't mark Lance?

Again, he scolded himself. It would happen, and he had to wait, if only a little longer. Not until Lance was ready, not until his rut smoothed over and they could finally talk. And they have a lot to talk about.

Shiro paused around one corner, slow as he drew up Lance behind him. His hand was warm, clammy from nerves. 

He shouldn't be having this, shouldn't feel distress while in rut. 

Shiro needed to get him away from all of this. He had the perfect place, at least for a day, but he wasn't sure after that.

He shuffled the bag, pressing the bag crammed full of clothing between his ass and Lance's hands. They had grown a little too insistent and a little too friendly.

Shiro loved it, loved the affection and attention Lance exuded, but at the moment it was pressuring and distracting.

Every turn he expected someone to be there, to bump into, to turn and notice them as they passed. And Lance knew it too, how possible that was, and clutched onto Shiro, fear eating at him much more than his rut, clearing his head long enough until they found a more stable place.

Shiro practically ripped open the car door, making sure to get Lance inside before making it around to his own. His hands fumbled with the keys, of course they did, shaking as he struggled to get them away. The garage door for his personal vehicle was a little too loud, a little too noticeable. And then the lights came on and he jumped, struggling to turn off the car’s headlights before they were safely out of the area. They would be fine, no one drove at this time of night, but beads of sweat still made their way along his temple and back. It’s been a while since he drove for this long.

The squirming passenger brought him crashing down into the car in an instant, how Lance didn't want this, had begged to be anything else. A heaviness weighed in Shiro's chest knowing that.

Lance had his head back, teeth clenched as he bit back noises. His legs had spread a bit, but his hands were shaking, trying to resist from doing anything despite how desperate he needed it. 

Shiro’s heart dropped, throat constricting at how torn Lance was then, how unsure he was still about this.

“Lance,” he begged. “It's alright, baby, do whatever you need.”

“Fuck,” Lance gasped. He was arching pitifully in his seat, hip rotating against the air, gaining friction off his pants. A strangled moan came up his throat, bitten and choked down.

Shiro needed him to touch himself, it would only get worse if he didn't. He knew how hard it was going to be later if Lance didn't relieve himself now.

“Fuck, it hurts,” he continued, hiss following the unwanted movement of his body. He was a string of continuous sounds.

“Where, baby,” Shiro asked. “Where does it all hurt?”

Maybe he could key in on some areas, figure out what Lance needed in that moment. Shiro understood how pains shifted, and certain areas need more attention than others. 

Lance laughed, harsh and venomous as he trembled, arching in the passenger seat. Shiro wanted so desperately to help him, to soothe away everything that was aching and in pain, anything that made his love cry out in agony. 

It was hard knowing that Lance hated all of this. Despite the wonderful, mind blowing moments they had before, Lance resented this. He shouldn’t though, he shouldn’t hate something that was a part of himself because others say it as unsightly and immoral. What gave them the right to see this as immoral?

“Only everywhere,” Lance barked into the darkness. “It just _burns_ , I can’t feel anythi- _ahh_.”

Shiro glanced over as Lance trembled, teeth clenched as his hand rubbed between his legs, palming at himself through his pants. He could see the open, absolute _pain_ in Lance’s face, a loud moan following as he frantically tore at his zipper.

Shiro felt his lungs fill, everything around him becoming a hundred times heavier, the air pressing in on him. 

Lance’s scent clung to him, new, different, sticking to his skin with something that was heavy, enticing as it tacked to his skin and slowed the air to his head. Lance smelled like the earth, but something fresh, sharp, like grass and rain, clean and enticing, pulling him out of the world in a moment to drift in his thoughts.

Shiro clutched the steering wheel, feeling his hands tremble and shake, his prosthetic suddenly feeling heavy, his shoulder aching with stress. He had to get a grip on himself, had to keep his eyes from drifting. But that new thing, the one Lance was frantically working over, heavy pants filling the tiny space, drew him in so easily. 

Lance was stroking himself, but it was different, not so much teasing like he usually did, where he could spend the better part of an hour working himself in a frenzy before his finish. He was getting to the point, no waiting as he spread his knees impossibly wide, hands dipping in his jeans to roam a little further over himself. 

But Shiro could smell it, see it, taste it in the air. 

Lance had a knot forming between his fingers, growing hard and larger by the second, engorged with the ideas that flowed through his mate’s head. Oh, how he wanted to know those images, wanted to know what was working himself up into this state so quickly.

His free hand had found its way to Shiro’s pants, shaking as fingers gripped the seam and held on, searching for a little anchor point. Shiro felt his whole body alight with that. Recently, it’s been happening so often, with the way Lance dragged him under the covers and let little words linger between them. 

This was the same, except now Shiro had no idea what Lance meant from the touch, what he was doing, what he needed. He looked frantic, unsteady and crumbling, but also fighting, searching deep in himself, touching himself like he had done this thousands of times before.

Of course he needed the reassurance, he needed to know if Shiro still loved this, wanted him, saw him in the same way and that none of this changed anything between them. 

Yes, this changed nothing at all. He still loved Lance with his whole being, and would burn up as a catastrophic inferno rather than leaving Lance out in the dark again.

Actually, everything became all the more interesting, and Shiro couldn’t wait to see what would happen next.

He grabbed at Lance’s hand with a cold, smooth, metallic one, pulling it up to his face to kiss the knuckles, the palm and fingers, along his wrist and up his arm. Shiro wanted to make sure he covered every inch of skin he could reach.

“There you go,” Shiro said. He needed Lance to know how okay this was, how good it would feel later.

He chuckled, thinking about it a little more. Shiro's knot didn't show until his third rut, and here Lance was, presenting so early and without any warning.

“Hmm, look at you,” he laughed, mouth watering at the thought. “Your first rut and you're already fully developed, must have something special there.”

His tongue peeked out, licking between long fingers, tracing knuckles and the curve of a thumb.

He could feel eyes boring into him with the action. Rut crazed eyes still full of love and devotion peered at him, a deep purring rumble filling up the other sounds in the room besides the soft movements from his hand, mixed in with a few deep moans. He looked more relaxed, more into the moment and void of the worry. 

Shiro kept that hand close, feeling how the fingers twitched and curled. He breathed in the new scent there along his wrist. It was deep and dark, warm as it sat in his stomach. That wooded forest filled his head, and then something closer to home, like dark chocolate, walnuts and finished wood.

“Good boy,” Shiro breathed into his palm, feeling fingertips graze his jaw.

Shiro sucked one of Lance’s fingers into his mouth, and felt him tense the same moment, sounds reverberating within the tight confines of the car as his orgasm washed through him.

Grunts filled the space between moans and purrs, Lance pulling away his hand from Shiro’s grasp to help work him through the knotting, teeth digging into his bottom lip as his fingers wrapped around himself. 

Lance shook with the intensity of it, leaning back and cumming on himself, no care for his shirt or pants. 

Shiro watched him out of the corner of his eye, flicking his gaze between Lance and the road. He had half a mind to pull over and help Lance as he whimpered and squirmed, heavy pulses making his hips rock. More than half a mind. His fingers twitched with the need, car leaning towards one side of the lane, leg shaking as he tried to keep his foot on the pedal. Shiro bit the inside of his cheek, trying to hold back his sounds, so Lance could concentrate on himself and not get taken out of the moment. But the smells in the car flooded him, the heavy musk burning his throat all the way down, the oxygen circling through his veins like fire. Shiro’s body lit up as Lance mistakenly let out his claiming scent, something possessive and unintentional, new to him as his hormones took over. 

Shiro couldn’t keep from glancing over, feeling the world go brighter for a moment as his eyes dilated. He could see Lance, how much he clung on to himself, how he shook and hips rocked still. He was bathed in a soft light, Shiro had no idea from what, but he blamed it on the stars and the small sliver of the moon in the sky. It was enough to pick up the sharp lines of Lance’s face, how red and swollen his lips were from working his teeth over them, how his face was tinted heavy with color even though Shiro could already feel it in the heat of the car.

There was no way Lance could be this fucking pretty all the time. It made Shiro’s heart ache, and his dick twitch painfully against the confines of his jeans. He huffed, a heavy drawn out air pushing past his teeth shakily as he saw Lance reach the ends of his orgasm, weak spurts of come traveling the length of his cock and fingers, not enough tension to push those last few waves out and further soak his shirt.

Eyes were on Shiro at the sound. Sedated, lidded, pools of warm water that drug Shiro down in with him, a deep purr rising up in his throat in response.

Lance was so unfair! Shiro shuddered at the look, determined to look not anywhere but the road, but it was near impossible when a hand smoothed up his thigh, painfully avoided where he needed to be touched, and fingers further moved along his side. 

His whole body shuddered, mouth parting to drink in Lance’s smell, his finish hanging heavy in the air and stroking up the heat in his stomach, hot air breathed onto the back of neck. It felt as if Lance was touching him everywhere, but that one spot, where fingers pushed up his shirt and circled over his stomach, was on fire.

A whine tried to break out of his throat, but he bit it back, clamping his aching teeth shut and boring a hole in the window with how his eyes strained to latch itself there, permanently.

After a while the touching stopped, Lance having pulled away from Shiro, had stripped his shirt off over his head. He didn’t look, not even when the movement stirred up so many smells. He wasn’t sure what Lance’s face would give away in that moment. He didn’t want Lance to take it as some kind of rejection, as if he wasn’t interested. No, Shiro was doing everything in his power to keep himself contained, to not pull over and drag Lance in the back seat with him and feel those wonderfully needy and lethal hands all over him. Shiro wanted Lance to drag him under again, but not until they were safe.

It took him a moment to gather up enough courage and look over at Lance, so he could steel himself against those eyes, so he won’t be dragged under.

He was quiet, body lax against the door as he dozed, face eased into something peaceful as he breathed in slow, steady breaths.

Shiro let the air woosh out of him in one long sigh, a smile creeping into his face. He couldn’t believe he was holding his breath.

And yet, he needed to. Lance’s scent was persistent and finding every weak point in him, pushing Shiro at all these places, working him up to become needy and pliant as he drove. 

His fingers flexed on the wheel, curling and uncurling as his hips rotated forward. A growl came up, lodging itself in his throat. He needed to get off, it was painful in an unbearable and desperate way. He knew his knot was trying to flare up, but everything else was hesitant to come along with it, his hormones hadn’t yet pushed him over the edge.

Shiro had no idea how he wasn't being consumed in his own rut, having smelled the heavy scent Lance was giving off, how he had been stretched with a tongue, how he buried himself in Lance's neck. It had been so long for him, it would only make sense that it happened when Lance presented. But maybe it was because everything so new, so different than he expected. 

He wanted to commit it to memory, wanted to understand the full ins and outs of Lance and his body. What he saw so far though was _glorious_. Looking over at his sleeping form now, Shiro felt an overbearing protectiveness, a need to curl himself around Lance and keep any prying eyes from drifting towards him. His hands tightened on the cars steering wheel with every passing vehicle. He hated this drive so much suddenly, realizing just how impossibly long and grueling it was.

It was too long, too _slow_. He wanted to be there now!

Shiro huffed into the air, fingers drumming on the wheel. At least Lance's scent was filling the small space, keeping him sane during this long drive. It was dark still, not even the hints of daylight breaking through yet. He let himself relax, let his hand find its way across the space and rub slow circles in Lance's thigh as he slept. The alpha didn't even stur, not a single flutter of his eyes. He was exhausted from the past day, clearly, with the way his mouth was parted and drooling on his arm that was folded under his head, a makeshift pillow in their haste. 

Shiro huffed at himself. He should have brought more for them. But he was terrified to go back, to get questions, to see the faces when they smelled Lance like that on him. The hackles on the back of his neck rose at the thought, but looking over at him settles Shiro so fast.

Lance was gorgeous. Shiro smiled at how he hadn't even covered himself up, body exposed to hands and lovely thoughts, tracing the dips and lines of his skin. Shiro could see that Lance was having a wonderful dream, rut flaring up and cock slowly growing hard again against his hip. Shiro felt his body tingle at the sight, his mind weighing over the terribly wonderful options in his head. 

He wanted to touch so badly, now that Lance’s knot had showed, and so early. Lance’s was full and hard and throbbing for attention the first time, and Shiro felt his body alight with that information. But also, it wouldn’t go down until the end of his cycle, that’s how it was, and Lance was sure to grind against every surface in their house by the time the sun came up, having thoroughly scent marked everything, and hopefully even Shiro. His body shuddered at the thought, of having Lance pressed up against him and tilting his head back, chin running over his neck to taste a sample of Shiro and his own scent, claiming him with the new smells. 

His eyes drifted over to Lance again, mind slipping into something a little more than obscene as he followed the dip of Lance’s stomach as he breathed, the way his knees pressed into the dash, thighs spread and open to invitations. Shiro gnawed at the side of his cheek, watching the movements, hand moving a little further between warm thighs, feeling how Lance shifted, how his hips stuttered. He was so unbelievably warm! Shiro bit his lip, breathing in a whole nother round of hormones that slowly seeped from Lance's lax body.

He wondered if Lance would actually wake up, or come undone in his dream with how his exhaustion kept him under still. Shiro wanted to know what he would look like, if Lance’s eyelashes would flutter at some unseen touch, hips rolling up into unknown hips, a ghosting of skin against skin as he got off from thoughts alone.

Lance could do it, Shiro believed it, and he’s almost done it before. The imagination was an unbelievable thing, but the extra push was welcoming.

Shiro’s fingers twitched. He wanted to, wanted to run his fingers over the hardness of Lance's knot. He wanted to feel the way it grew in his hand, feel how hard it actually became once attention was given. All alphas were different, and Shiro was sure to mark out everything that was unique about Lance, to know if it was already full or needed a little incentive to make his cock rigid and ache before coming.

And he has to admit, Lance looks ravishing with a knot. It was enticing, with the way it settled heavy at the base of his cock, so innocent but urging Shiro to touch.

But the desire still didn't compare to how Shiro breathed in his scent. It had him alight within moments after assaulting his head, running its lithe little fingers over him again, caressing every portion of skin it could find. And the way Lance’s thigh spread open when being pulled at had Shiro biting onto his shirt for an anchor, working the material between his teeth and probably wearing holes it it as his tongue dampened the fabric.

His hand snapped back when Lance shifted though, going right back to gripping the steering wheel. 

Shiro should let Lance rest, let him get some sleep in before the thing fully dug its claws in. Ruts were horrible things at times, and worse when one was exhausted. The constant thrum of arousal never really gave a moment of sleep during the time, so Shiro sat there, pouting, as he let his eyes get lost to the road before him.

Not too much longer. They had been driving for hours, while Lance had slept in many different stages of unrest and total oblivion. Shiro kept his mouth shut, not daring to let his voice come out and stur his lovely mate to reality, letting songs only come to mind and thoughts pass by with no reaction. 

Shiro had felt himself grow soft at the long wait, after spending an hour pressed up against a zipper with no way to get off, but that came back full force as a familiar driveway came into view early in the morning, the peaks of sunlight ghosting over the tops of the trees.

The house was bigger than he remembered, but without the full midday sun lighting up the wood and windows, it seemed massive. 

Shiro eased himself out of the driver seat without trying to wake Lance. He wanted to surprise him. Well… with waking him up and finally getting him some place safe and secluded.

Shiro cooed as he opened up the door, gathering the bag under Lance’s feet and smoothing a hand over his curling hair.

“Good ‘morning, Bluebird,” he cooed, smile involuntarily spreading wide. Shiro couldn't help himself with how Lance looked, completely oblivious and relaxed. 

Lance answered back, a deep rising chuff coming from his lips. An eye peeked open, settling on Shiro’s form.

The back of his neck chilled, smelling Lance so close like this, feeling how he moved to followed Shiro to the front door. More like prowled, hovering back a few steps and Shiro could feel the eyes roaming over him. Lance’s interest was coming back full force, but struggling to wade through his sleepy state. At least that would give him some more time to get Lance up, back to where Shiro wanted, where he needed to be.

“Do you want to start where we left off,” Shiro whispered. 

Lance had pressed himself right up against Shiro’s back as he opened the front door, nuzzling into the short strands of hairs there and the tongue following the rising heat along his skin. He couldn’t hold back the shudder that went through him at the sensation. Lance was following every nerve and tremor across his body.

Hovering, picking, gnawing away at his very point of him. Shiro shivered, trying to push him off.

“This is good,” Lance muttered, slipping in after Shiro once the door was open. His teeth nipped and had Shiro's knees buckling.

He couldn't get the damn keys out though.

“Lance,” Shiro huffed, hands still struggling. 

But there he was, teeth latching on and nose nuzzling through the hair at the back of his neck.

Shiro bowed, feeling hands smooth up his waist and grip tight, hurting, possessive.

“Stop, let me get the keys first.” Shiro tried to move him, oh, he tired, but Lance had become impossible, shoving, pressing his way into his space with rough grabs and shoves. 

“Lance!” Shiro whirled on him, hands coming up to brace against the insistent pushing and hands.

Shiro braced his arms, holding down the squirming alpha, his teeth were bared, but skin pebbling where Shiro touched. His own hackles raised at the show, growl settling deeper.

“You should listen better.”

“How about you make me,” Lance snapped, coy tilt to the corner of his mouth.

Shiro surged forward, forehead pressing to Lance’s, his own teeth showing.

For a moment, panic washed over him. The way Lance looked, gone, his eyes hard and distant, it hurt. This wasn’t _Lance_. Maybe he had been wrong, maybe he should listen and help. Shiro should do more to fix this, shouldn’t make Lance push to become something he didn’t want to be.

But how did he know he didn’t want this? He hasn’t even tried it out yet, because everyone else was pressuring him to be something _they_ wanted.

Shiro stopped, and breathed deep. This is what he wanted. He wanted Lance to be himself, even as he fought with it, fought the sudden bouts of anger and possessiveness, the posturing and deep growls. He loved it, loved the look Lance had, the furrowed eyebrows, but soft eyes. They had changed with Shiro’s mood, had followed his lead. There was nothing wrong with this, with them. It would be alright. Shiro knew Lance would be alright. Everything would be.

They had to get through these few days first. 

Shiro pressed in then, mouth running up the length of Lance’s jaw, pressing teeth to the swollen glands at his neck. The new alpha shivered at the touch, smile spreading wide.

“How about you stay right here,” Shiro hummed. “Until I say so.”

He could practically hear Lance swallow with the request, still tense and pushing back, but stayed when Shiro let up his hands. He took a step away, not once turning away from the impossibly imposing man at the door, catching his eyes with every movement. Shiro liked this look, the attention, the breathtaking way Lance’s gaze bore into him. It sent the hair along his body on end, the nature of the look trying to force him away. Shiro breathed in the attention. 

He stepped further inside, purring when Lance closed the door himself and locked it, keys playfully ringing in his own hands. Shiro made sure to turn on the lights, slowly toeing his boots off and stripping out of painfully constricting clothes.

“Okay,” he whispered, mouth pulling into a grin hearing the immediate sound of Lance moving forward, pulling at his already unzipped pants before the second syllable left his lips.

There were teeth on him, pinching and digging deep, deeper than he expected. They marked him up, left a bit of blood behind on his shoulder. Not enough to be permanent, but the bruise would grow big and deep, color heavy and noticeable on his skin.

Shiro growled, pulling away to flip around, but Lance was right there again, all teeth and nails.

“And where was that?” The voice was soft, playful, but deeper than usual as it tasted Shiro’s shoulder. 

Lance bit at Shiro’s ear and he couldn’t pull away fast enough, couldn’t keep his moan down. That spot was dangerous, heat raising up much quicker than anything else. At the same time, he enjoyed the way Lance reacted to it, head tilting and eyebrows pinched as he took in the information and sound.

“W-what,” Shiro groaned. He bucked back into thin hips, loving the way Lance grabbed him, hands working over every inch of skin.

A chuckle rose up, strained as he tried to breathe past all the heat and rush. “Where we left off,” Lance nosed into his neck.

“I-I think in the bathroom,” Shiro stuttered, turning around to face him. “Or maybe the bedroom. Whatever you want.”

Lance was purring, pressing right up into Shiro’s space again, having stepped out of his pants finally.

Shiro shivered feeling hands on his chest, thumbs easily pressing and smoothing over nipples hidden under his shirt, toying with the piercings and tugging gently. He bowed, following the motion, mouth hanging open as Lance smirked.

His lips crashed against Lance’s, all teeth and tongue as he was pushed back, shoulder connecting with a wall suddenly. It had been too long without Lance’s lips on him, without that biting sneer and laugh, hands working down over his hips and butt, kneading and tugging. 

Shiro stumbled back a bit, still not used to the layout of the house as he pushed further back into it. There was a step in the open layout, to their living room, and Lance was on level with him, eyes open as he pulled away from the biting kiss. His teeth showed in a smile, bright and white, sending a bolt up Shiro’s spine when his hand suddenly pressed at his stomach, pushing him back.

He was prowling again, walking around Shiro as he tried to gather himself up off the floor, tried to breathe through his mouth to gain some kind of sense, but nothing was coming to him. Everything was telling him to leave the rutting alpha, or to posture, to make his body know it was off limits. But he couldn’t do it, couldn’t gather the strength or _want_ to push Lance away.

Shiro loved this, absolutely and unfathomably in love with the man circling around him. Lance was sizing him up, touching every so often, purr rising up out of his throat loud as he called to his mate, his partner that was hanging on every movement and glance.

He jolted when Lance stepped up, clenching his eyes close and waiting to be dragged under, to be flattened out on the couch that was so close by, or maybe led upstairs, where Lance can soak his scent into the bed and claim it.

It never came though, but Shiro stayed tense, waiting for it, wanting Lance to do something other than this. Shiro whined, hands shaking as they wrapped around Lance’s frame, thumbs pressing into his hips and rubbing. His glands throbbed, feeling Lance so close to him, his warmth and musk bring him up impossibly high.

Lance pressed his mouth there, terribly aware of the need flowing through Shiro. 

A smile ghosted over the aching area. “Do you want to help?”

Shiro bit at his tongue, feeling the whine coming hard and fast through him, but it managed to break out when Lance ran his tongue there, a flood of shivering cold filling his body and mingling with the heat, throwing his body into an impossible chaos.

“Or watch me?”

He was trying to breathe in, trying to gather himself, but Lance was digging his nails in. Shiro wanted to do so many things, wanted to be a part of this, wanted to watch Lance unravel like he always did.

“Y-yes,” Shiro keened.

Lance clicked his tongue, nipping at Shiro’s neck and nearly buckling his knees. His legs were complete jelly. “To which one,” Lance asked. “You have a voice, use it.”

Shiro actually wasn’t sure anything would come out if he wanted. All the words in his head were turning to sounds, unabashed, full moans that stuck in his throat and left as whimpers. 

“Hmm, then how about you do whatever _you_ want,” Lance laughed. “And I can watch.”

Lance was having way too much fun watching him flounder, it showed in his face, the light of his eyes, they way the heat danced in them and lapped at the form of Shiro there. 

But Shiro could see the strain too, how Lance trembled and arched towards the touch at his waist, how he buried himself in Shiro’s neck and didn’t seem to want to detach himself, needing the constant touch. Shiro cooed, guiding him forward those last few feet to press back into a counter, pinning Lance to the spot. He didn’t know where they were, how deep they were into the house. All he knew was that he needed to pin Lance to a spot and work at him till morning.

Shiro hovered, letting Lance nip at his mouth desperately, little noises coming up and arms trying to wrap around him. He was picking himself back up, if only to give Lance all the attention he needed. Shiro understood this all, knew what Lance would need, what burned and how to soothe him. Of course there were differences, some areas Lance might not want to be touched, but Shiro was going to scent every inch of him whether he wanted it or not. He wanted to spoil Lance like how Shiro tried to do to himself.

It was hard without a mate, without someone there to take some of the ache and burden away. Shiro was not going to let Lance experience that, not ever, it hurt too much thinking about that. 

He dipped his head down, pressing a kiss to the chest and its beating heart, practically feeling it in the way Lance’s scent shifted, the way he grew still and let Shiro continue with this journey. 

His legs struggled to keep up, already failing him as he moved down, pressing light kisses to Lance’s stomach, and then teeth. A grunt met him, hands gripping Shiro’s hair and yanking. Lance acted like this was too slow, pushing at the back of Shiro’s head, tugging on his hair and teeth showing with his noises. But he eased up, letting him sink down to kiss at Lance’s hips, hands smoothing over pebbling skin. Shiro could feel the drag of Lance’s cock up his chest, how it pressed at his collarbone, and then further along his neck.

Shiro swallowed, tasting Lance long before he would put his mouth on him, letting the musk swirl in his lungs and collect. He wanted all of it, wanted to be claimed by it, so his smell was next to nothing by morning.

All his skin prickled, feeling himself sink lower, feeling Lance’s eyes on him with the movement. He hesitated, swallowing thickly as he took in the scent around him, draping him in a fog that threw all inhibitions out the door. Shiro nearly forgot what this was like, how ruts can completely dismantle a person and send them over the edge. But Lance was hanging on to a thin thread of himself, struggling to stay above water.

Shiro grinned, hoping this little thing would pull him under.

He pressed forward, letting the soft underside of his jaw glide over Lance’s length, cock immediately twitching at the touch. He was so warm, heavy as it the head pressed into his skin. 

Shiro heard a gasp, then a choked out moan, nails scratching as they gripped the counter hard. The cock twitched again, tip pressing into his gland, spilling over smells that had been collecting there for a while. Protectiveness, adoration, a mixture of all things that had gathered there for a year.

His tongue slipped out, licking along the vein on his shaft, nuzzling forward and practically rubbing their smells together, heat flaring up between the two and mixing into something indescribably them. Shiro hummed feeling that cock twitching, smearing cum along his neck, smiling at how the knot felt over his glands, the hardness pressing into the soft of his neck, making his throat ache from the pressure and swallowing difficult. He pressed his face into Lance’s stomach, nose pressing into the rough curls there and mouth tracing over that full knot.

Lance was absolutely divine. His smell was so different, but him, only vibrant and fully awake now. He breathed in, filling his mouth full of it, and swallowed it down. It was pure heat that went down, soft in its travels but sticky and catching on every pore and crevasse. His tongue licked up sweat, tasting the heavy concentration, running it along his teeth. He shuddered at the dark taste, how it hung sweet on his tongue too. It was a wonderful mix that left bursts of light behind his eyes. The hands traveling his hair didn’t help either, leaving behind little bubbles of heat over his scalp, lights dancing in his head and over his skin.

Shiro felt at home here, nestled between Lance’s legs, listening to words fall from his mouth and sounds fill the room around them. He pressed his face in further, following the dip of Lance’s stomach as he breathed, nipping at warm skin, feeling it shiver beneath his teeth.

Shiro flicked his eyes up finally, catching the tail end of Lance’s moan, head tilting back with the sound, throat constricting around it at it vibrated up through his chest.

But then his eyes crashed back to Shiro’s, deep and dilated in the dark of the house. Shiro held it, taking in the way Lance bore into him, waiting, the look sharp and searching for any movement that Shiro will continue. It was blazing, tearing at Shiro and pushing for him to touch, to do more, desperate and raw. There were wisps of color in his eyes, the blue thin around black, but swirled with constellations and galaxies.

Shiro purred, letting the vibrations run along him, gland over his knot. He heard Lance moan, saw his stomach dip with the action, quick and deep, shudder running through him. A smile spread over his face, mischievous and playful as he tipped his chin in, mouth brushing over the length of Lance.

“You’re so pretty, Lance,” he breathed out, breath fanning along heated skin. He watched the cock bounce, felt it press firm against his chin and lips. 

A shuddering moan filled the room when Shiro licked a stripe up the heavy flesh, mouth watering at the taste in the air, the musk that clung to the pores of his face and neck, making the area buzz with heat. Shiro chuffed, noise touching along Lance. He perked, hearing the same noise answer, but this one was a little strained, a little hoarse.

He loved this, loved how Lance pushed, grew impatient with Shiro's slow pace and moved them. He loved how Lance pressed him back, pushing him through the house to find their room, chasing after Shiro into upturned blankets and sheets to mouth and gnaw at him. The way Lance draped across him made his body warm up, his body shivering at the hands along his sides. Shiro felt himself burn at all the attention and careful hands.

He liked how Lance's teeth felt, how they broke skin, marking up his body and tongue peeking to lap at the wound. It stilled him but also sent a thrill up his spine— a shiver that followed the movement of Lance's hand up his back, cascading down over his shoulders to pull him back again, flush with every meet of skin. He bowed, loving how Lance felt overwhelming and thoughtful in every movement. Shiro chuffed, drawing in the man behind him to mark again, leave bites and scratch skin. He needed all of it, wanted to feel the ache and fire hours after everything was down. 

He pressed back, craving the way Lance spread him open and made him take everything again and again. It was hard to breathe at some point, but Lance was breathing life back in with a slow kiss, mouth quirked and little chuckle in his throat. Shiro chuffed again, baring his throat to let Lance scent again, despite how raw and used he felt, how swollen and painful touches were to his glands.

And, oh, the way Lance purred had Shiro melting against the sheets, his coos coming out high and loud.

—

It was some time before he peeked open an eye, sun barely setting again. The room was cold again, so Shiro pressed up close to Lance again. He nuzzled into the warm junction of his neck, breathing in his scents of sleep, forgoing the prickle of hair along his arms and neck. It was the cold after all, and with the way Lance lay next to him, it was easy to pass over.

He forgot what this was like, how alphas smelled, how they stood, completely and utterly relaxed and at ease. Lance laid there, spread out, uncaring of his display that curled against his stomach, hard and twitching even in sleep.

Shiro pressed further into him, but stiffened at the twitch from Lance. He didn't mean to wake him, grew still and hoped he would fall back asleep. But the alpha was already purring and nuzzling into him like he wasn't dozing for hours, hair curled from sleep, but gaze awake and playful as he turned into him.

It was easy to succumb into hands and teeth again, so easy. Shiro tilted his head, purring into the motions of Lance's tongue dragging over his jaw and chest, working him slowly back up into a frenzy. It was even easier to let Lance press in between his legs and hands to scratch at skin.

—

Shiro blinked his eyes open again. He couldn't get back to sleep, and had been tossing for a while. There was heat in his head, a twitch in his arm that made him sit up. He stared, eyes glancing about the walls and moving over the windows. Something was off, he wasn't sure what, maybe a pillow on the floor or the way the blankets were laid out. But this was sending his head into overdrive. He should have paid attention to it before. It was that same gnawing, that same obsessive heat in his head. 

Everything was quiet though and Lance was finally asleep, not dozing like before and was actually passed out. His face was completely lax, hair having curled in the fit of his heavy sleep, unmoving when Shiro shifted. He smiled at the sleeping man. He was exhausted from the past day, from all the heat rushing through his system. There was nothing worse than rut exhaustion and how it drug at your muscles. At least Lance's rut was giving him a moment. Most of the time, ruts were an unwavering cycle that lasted for days.

Again, something was still eating at him. It wasn't Lance, it never would be, but there was a push behind his eyes that forced him to look around once more. A prickle went up his spine, feeling how cold it was. Or maybe not too terribly cold.

But there is was again, a throbbing at the back of his skull that sent the hair along his body on end. He stood, pacing around the room. There was nothing off, nothing at all. Everything was were it should be.

Shiro huffed and leaned back against the window, trying to get the panes to cool him off a little.

His head tilted, noting the glow of the porch light he could see across the yard, barely noticeable in the waning darkness as morning shifted around again.

He didn't remember that light being on before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I had spent a long time on how to end this chapter and what to do for the next one to keep it going, but comments are appreciated and I love the input.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at my tumblr [tetsarou](tetsarou.tumblr.com) and yell about shance with me


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